Please 

handle  this  volume 

with  care. 

The  University  of  Connecticut 
Libraries,  Storrs 


y 


3   ^1S3   DlllST=1fl   7 


GAYLORD  RG 


,6 


P/ROAJ    LJuA/i 


B 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  AARON 
BURR,  AND  SOME  OF  HIS  COTEMPO- 
RARIES  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  BAR. 

A  paper  read  by  John  Gkbenwoop,  at  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  Sept. 
24, 1868,  before  the  L.  I.  Historical  Society. 

I  HAVE  thought  that  some  recollections 
of  Aaron  Burr,  and  some  of  the  most  pro- 
minent members  of  the  Bar  of  the  City  of 
New  York  of  his  time,  might  be  interest- 
ing ;  and  that  even  a  hasty  sketch,  which  is 
all  that  I  can  promise,  prepared  as  it  has 
necessarily  been  amidst  other  occupations, 
might  not  only  be  amusing  for  the  hour, 
but  be,  perhaps,  the  means  of  transmitting 
at  least  to  a  few  of  those  who  are  to  come 
after  us,  some  of  the  peculiar  traits  and 
characteristics  of  these  distinguished  men. 
Their  memory  is  fast  fading  away ;  and 
now,  if  ever,  what  can  be  recollected  by 
those  who  saw  and  heard  them  should  be 
written  down  and  preserved.  As  to  the 
first.  Col.  Burr,  I  enjoyed  peculiar  advan- 
tages of  knowledge,  having  been  for  a  pe- 
riod of  about  six  years,  namely,  from  about 
1814  to  1820,  a  clerk  and  student  in  his 
ofiice  and  m  constant  intercourse  with  him, 
and  this  at  a  period  of  my  life  when  the 
strongest  impressions  were  likely  to  be 
made  upon  me.  As  to  the  others,  I  can  of 
course  give  you  only  the  result  of  such  ob- 
servations as  frequent  opportunities  of  see- 
ing and  hearing  them  in  court  in  their  pro- 
fessional characters,  and  occasionally  at 
their  ofiices  or  in  other  places,  afforded  me 
the  means  of  making ;  but  they  will  be  such, 


332 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE 


[Nov., 


I  think,  as  will  give  you  some  distinct  idea  | 
of  them,  if  they  should  not  be  sufficient  to 
reproduce  them  before  you. 

The  public  life  and  character  of  Col.  Burr 
are  well  known,  for  they  have  already  be- 
come matter  of  history  ;  but  his  personal 
habits  and  peculiarities  are  not  so  well  un- 
derstood, and  it  is  these  which  I  desire 
more  particularly  to  bring  before  you. 
Indeed  it  is  from  these  sources  that  more 
may  be  learned  of  a  man's  real  character 
than  from  any  other. 

What  then  can  I  say  of  this  remarkable 
man — for  such  he  truly  was — Avho  though 
small  in  person  filled  so  great  a  space — Avho 
once  moved  familiarly  before  the  world,  and 
yet  seems  to  us  now  so  like  a  mystery  ! 

There  is  a  very  old  maxim  with  which 
we  are  all  conversant,  de  mortuis  nil  nisi 
honum.  I  admit  that  it  is  more  to  be  com- 
mended for  its  charity  (blessed  virtue  it  is) 
than  to  be  regarded  by  the  truthful  histo- 
rian or  biographer.  But  it  may  be  safely 
said  that  it  has  been  quite  sufficiently  de- 
parted from  in  the  case  of  Col.  Burr. 

The  dark  side  of  Col.  Burr's  character 
has  been  very  often  presented,  and  it  is 
unnecessary  that  I  should  make  another 
exhibition  of  it.  It  gives  me  pleasure  to 
be  able  to  bring  into  the  light  features  upon 
which  it  is  more  agreeable  to  dwell,  and 
some  of  which,  indeed,  may  be  contem- 
plated with  advantage. 

Let  me  first  speak  of  his  temperance  in 
eating  and  drinking.  It  would  be  natural  to 
suppose  that  a  man  somewhat  unrestricted, 
as  it  must  be  admitted  he  was,  in  one  re- 
spect which  may  be  regarded  as  in  some 
degree  correlative,  would  not  be  very  much 
restrained  in  the  indulgences  of  the  table. 
But  the  fact  is  otherwise.  His  diet  was 
very  light.  A  cup  of  coftee  and  a  roll,  with 
but  tseldora  the  addition  of  an  egg,  and 
never  of  meat  or  fish,  constituted  his  break- 
fast. His  dinner,  in  a  majority  of  cases, 
consisted  of  roasted  potatoes  seasoned  with 
a  little  salt  and  butter,  or  perhaps  of  some 
thickened  milk  (called  sometimes  "  honny 
clabber'''')  sweetened  with  sugar.  A  cup  of 
black  tea  with  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter 
was  the  last  meal ;  and  these  constituted, 
as  the  general  rule,  his  whole  sustenance 


for  twenty-four  hours.  The  exception  was 
when  some  friend  was  invited  by  him  to 
dinner.  He  was  very  fond,  when  seated 
at  table,  of  having  his  favorite  cat  near  him, 
and  it  was  a  pleasant  thing  to  see  jmss  sit 
on  the  arm  of  his  chair  and  keep  him  com- 
pany. As  to  spirituous  liquors  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying,  from  personal  know- 
ledge, that  he  never  used  them.  His  usual 
beverage  was  claret  and  water  sweetened 
with  loaf  sugar.  His  wine  he  bought  by 
the  cask,  and  had  bottled  at  his  residence. 
The  result  of  his  abstemious  course  of  living 
was  that  he  enjoyed  uniform  good  health, 
which  was  seldom  if  ever  interrupted. 

His  industry  was  of  the  most  remaikable 
character.  Indeed  it  may  Avith  truth  be 
said  that  he  was  never  idle.  He  was  al- 
ways employed  in  some  way,  and  what  is 
more,  required  every  one  under  him  to  be 
so.  Sometimes  in  coming  through  the 
office  and  observing  that  I  was  not  at  work, 
as  I  might  not  have  been  for  the  moment, 
he  would  say,  "  Master  John,  can't  you  find 
something  to  do  ?"  although  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  no  clerk  in  an  office  was  ever  more 
constantly  worked  than  I  was.  He  would 
rise  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  de- 
vote himself  to  business  all  day — fur  he  had 
a  large  general  practice — and  usually  re- 
tired to  rest  not  sooner  than  twelve  or  half- 
past  tw'elve  at  night.  In  this  way  he  would 
accomplish  a  vast  amount  of  work.  His 
perseverance  and  indefatigability,  too,  were 
strikingly  characteristic.  No  plan  or  pur- 
pose once  formed  was  abandoned,  and  no 
amount  of  labor  ever  seemed  to  discourage 
him  or  cause  him  to  desist.  To  begin  a 
thing  was,  with  him,  to  finish  it.  How 
widely  in  this  respect  he  difl\?red  from  some 
professional  men  of  his  own  and  the  present 
day  I  need  hardly  say.  I  could  recur  to 
some  greatly  his  juniors  in  years  who  were 
and  are  his  very  opposites  in  this  respect. 
He  was  for  having  a  thing  done,  too,  as  soon 
as  it  could  be,  and  not,  as  some  have  erro- 
neously supposed,  for  seeing  how  long  it 
could  be  put  oft'  before  it  was  begun. 

But  I  must  say  a  w'ord  of  his  manner  in 
court.  He  seemed,  in  the  street  aiul  every- 
where in  jniblic,  to  be  strongly  conscious 
that  he  was  a  mark  for  observation — not 


18GH.] 


H I  S  T  0  li  I  C  A  L    ]M  A  G  A  Z  I  N  E , 


333 


indeed  in  the  sense  in  whicli  Hamlet  is 
spoken  of  as  "  tlie  observed  of  all  obser- 
vers," but  as  an  object,  to  some  of  curio- 
sity, to  others  of  hostile  or  suspicious  re- 
gard. Carrying  this  feeling  into  a  court- 
room his  manner  was  somewhat  reserved, 
'though  never  submissive,  and  he  used  no 
unnecessary  words.  He  would  present  at 
once  the  main  jioint  of  his  case,  and  as  his 
preparation  was  thorough,  would  usually 
be  successful.  ]>ut  he  was  not  eloquent. 
If  he  thought  his  dignity  assailed  in  any 
manner,  even  infcrentially,  his  rebuke  was 
withering  in  the  cutting  sarcasm  of  its  few 
words,  and  the  lightning  glance  of  his  ter- 
rible eyes  which  few  could  withstand.  I 
may  say  in  this  connexion  that  his  self-pos- 
session, under  the  most  trying  circumstan- 
ces, was  wonderful,  and  that  he  probably 
never  knew  what  it  was  to  fear  a  human 
being. 

If  there  was  anything  which  Burr's  proud 
spirit  supremely  despised  it  was  a  mean^ 
prying  curiosity.  He  early  inculcated  on 
me  the  lesson,  never  to  read  even  an  opened 
letter  addressed  to  another  which  might  be 
lying  in  my  way,  and  never  to  look  over 
another  who  was  writing  a  letter.  It  was 
one  of  my  duties  to  copy  his  letters,  and  I 
shall  never  forget  the  indign.ant  and  wither- 
ing look  which,  on  one  occasion,  he  gave 
to  a  person  in  the  office  who  endeavored  to 
see  what  I  was  copying.  Neither  would 
he  tolerate  any  iihpertinent  staring  or  gaz- 
ing at  him  as  if  to  spy  out  his  secret 
thoughts  and  reflections. 

"  Too  close  inquiry,  his  stern  glance  would  quell — 
There  breathed  but  few  whose  aspect  might  defy 
The  full  encounter  of  his  searching  eye. 
He  had  the  skill  when  cunning's  gaze  would  seek 
To  probe  his  lieart  and  watch  his  changing  cheek, 
At  once  the  observer's  purpose  to  espy, 
And  on  himself  roll  back  his  scrutiny." 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  me  say  some- 
thing of  his  very  fascinating  powers  in 
conversation.  It  may  seem  strange,  if  not 
incredible,  that  a  man  who  had  passed 
through  such  vicissitudes  as  he  had,  and 
who  must  have  had  such  a  crowd  of  early 
and  pressing  memories  on  his  mind,  should 
be  able  to  preserve  a  uniform  serenity  and 
even   cheerfulness ;  but   such   is   the  fact. 


His  manners  were  courtly  and  his  carriage 
graceful,  and  he  had  a  winning  smile  in 
moments  of  ]»leasant  intercourse  which 
seemed  almost  to  charm  yon.  He  would 
laugh  too,  sometimes,  as  if  his  heart  was 
bubbling  with  joy,  and  its  eifect  was  irre- 
sistible. Nobody  could  tell  a  story  or  an 
anecdote  better  than  he  could,  and  nobody 
enjoyed  it  better  than  he  did  himself.  His 
maxim  w.i.s  suaviterin  modo^  fort  iter  in  re. 
Yet  where  spirit  and  a  determined  manner 
were  required,  probably  no  man  ever 
showed  them  more  eftectively.  Although 
comparatively  small  in  person  and  light  in 
frame,  I  have  seen  him  rebuke  and  i)ut  to 
silence  men  of  position  in  society  greatly 
his  supei'iors  in  physical  strength,  who 
were  wanting  in  respect  in  their  language 
towards  him. 

Col.  Burr  was  a  social  man  ;  that  is,  he 
liked  the  company  of  a  friend,  and  would 
spend  a  half  hour  with  him  in  conversation 
most  agreeably.  Occasionally  one  with 
whom  he  had  been  on  intimate  terms,  and 
who  had  shared  his  adventures,  like  Samuel 
Swartwout  or  William  Ilosack,  would  call 
and  have  a  pleasant  time.  Dr.  W.  J.  Mc- 
Nevin  was  also  intimate  with  him.  He 
was  very  fond  of  young  company.  Chil- 
dren were  delighted  with  him.  He  not 
only  took  an  interest  in  their  sports,  but 
conciliated  them  and  attached  them  to  him 
by  presents.  The  latter,  I  may  observe, 
was  also  one  of  his  modes  of  pleasing  the 
more  mature  of  the  gentler  sex. 

He  was  very  fond  of  alludmg  to  events 
in  his  military  life.  Indeed  I  think  that  he 
chiefly  prided  himself  upon  his  military 
character.  His  counsel  was  much  sought 
by  foreigners  engaged  in  revolutionary  en- 
terprises, who  happened  to  be  in  New 
York ;  and  during  the  period  of  the  revo- 
lution in  Caraccas,  Generals  Carrera  and 
Kibas,  who  took  part  in  it,  and  during  its 
existence  visited  New  Y^'ork,  were  on  very 
intimate  terms  with  him.  The  former  was 
a  gentleman  of  great  talent  but  of  modest 
and  retired  bearing. 

There  are  some  who  suppose  that  Col. 
BuiT  had  no  virtues.  This  is  a  mistake. 
He  was  true  in  his  friendships,  and  would 
go  any  length  to  serve  a  friend ;  and  he 


334 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE 


[Nov, 


liad  also  the  strongest  affections.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  incidents  concerning  the 
loss  of  liis  daughter  Tlieodosia,  then  wife 
of  Gov.  Alston  of  South  Carolina.  Soon 
after  Col.  Burr's  return  fiom  Europe  to 
New  York  he  arranged  for  her  to  come  on 
and  visit  him,  and  she  set  out,  as  is  known, 
from  Georgetown  in  a  small  schooner  called 
the  l^atriot.  Timothy  Green,  a  retired 
lawyer  in  New  Yoi-k,  a  most  worthy  man 
and  an  ohl  friend  of  Col.  Burr,  went  on  by 
land  to  accom])any  her.  The  tact  of  the 
departure  of  the  vessel  with  his  daughter 
and  Mr.  Green  on  board  was  communicated 
by  letter  from  Gov.  Alston  to  Col.  Burr, 
and  he  looked  forward  with  anticipations 
of  joy  to  the  meeting  which,  after  so  maoy 
years  of  separation,  was  to  take  place  be- 
tween himself  and  his  dear  child.  A  full 
time  for  the  arrival  of  the  vessel  at  New 
York  elapsed,  but  she  did  not  come.  As 
day  after  day  passed  and  still  nothing  was 
seen  or  heard  of  the  vessel  or  of  his  daugh- 
ter, that  face,  which  had  before  shown  no 
gloom  or  sadness,  began  to  exhibit  the  sign 
of  deep  and  deeper  concern.  Every  means 
was  resorted  to  to  obtain  information,  but 
no  tidings  were  ever  lieard  of  that  vessel 
or  of  her  upon  whom  all  the  affections  of 
his  nature  had  been  bestowed.  "  Hope 
deferred"  did  in  this  case,  indeed,  make 
sick  and  nearly  crush  the  heart.  His  sym- 
bol, which  he  loved  occasionally  to  stamp 
upon  the  seal  of  a  letter,  was  a  rock  in  the 
tempest-tossed  ocean  which  neither  wind 
nor  wave  could  move.  But  his  firm  and 
manly  nature,  which  no  danger  or  reverse 
nor  any  of  the  previous  circumstances  of 
life  had  been  able  to  shake,  was  near  giving 
way.  It  was  interesting  though  painful  to 
Avitness  his  struggle;  but  he  did  rise  supe- 
rior to  his  grief,  and  the  light  once  more 
shone  upon  his  countenance.  But  it  was 
ever  afterwards  a  subdued  light.  There 
Avas  a  story  afterwards  that  the  vessel  had 
been  seized  by  the  crew  and  the  passengers 
killed  with  the  view  of  converting  her  into 
a  ])irate ;  but  this  story  has  never  been 
traced  to  any  reliable  source,  although  a 
publication  was  made  at  one  time  that  a 
confession  to  this  effect  had  been  made  by 
fiome  dying  sailor. 


Something  will  be  expected  to  be  said 
by  me  with  regard  to  his  duel  with  Gen. 
Hamilton.  So  much  has  been  written  on 
this  subject  already  that  I  can  add  nothing 
to  the  history  of  the  transaction.  Every 
one  will  form  an  opinion  for  himself  as  to 
who  was  to  blame  in  that  imfortunate  affair. ' 
I  will  say,  however,  that  it  was  a  matter  to 
which  Col.  Burr,  from  delicacy,  never  re- 
ferred. He  was  no  boaster  an<.l  no  calum- 
niator, and  certainly  he  would  have  hail  no 
word  of  censure  for  his  dead  antagonist. 
I  will  relate,  however,  an  anecdote  told  me 
by  him  indicating  the  degree  of  hostility 
felt  towards  him  by  some  after  that  trans- 
action, and  at  the  same  time  his  own  intre- 
pidity, although  to  the  latter  he  seemed 
not  to  attach  the  slightest  importance.  He 
was  travelling  in  the  interior  of  this  state, 
and  had  reached  a  country  tavern  where 
he  was  to  stay  for  the  night.  He  was 
seated  at  a  table  in  his  room  engaged  in 
writing,  when  the  landlord  came  up  and 
announced  that  two  young  men  were  below 
and  wished  to  see  him,  and  added  that 
their  manner  seemed  rather  singular.  He 
had  heard  that  two  very  enthusiastic  young 
gentlemen  were  on  his  track,  and  he  was 
not  therefore  surprised  at  the  announce- 
ment. Taking  out  his  pistols  and  laying 
them  before  him  he  told  the  landlord  to 
show  them  up.  They  came  up,  and  as  one 
was  about  to  advance  into  his  room.  Burr 
told  him  not  to  apju'oach  a  foot  nearer. 
Then  addressing  them  he  said,  "  What  is 
your  business  ?'^  The  foremost  said,  "  Are 
you  Col.  Burr  ?»  "  Yes,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"  Well,"  says  the  young  man,  "  we  have 
come  to  take  your  life,  and  mean  to  have  it 
before  we  go  away."  Upon  this.  Burr,  lay- 
ing his  hand  ui>on  one  of  his  pistols,  re- 
plied, "  You  arc  brave  fellows,  are  you  not, 
to  come  here  two  of  you  against  one  man? 
Now  if  either  of  you  has  any  courage,  come 
out  with  me  and  choose  your  own  distance 
and  I'll  give  you  a  chance  to  make  fame. 
But  if  you  don't  accept  this  proposal," 
bringing  the  severest  glance  of  his  terrible 
eyes  to  bear  upon  them,  "  I'll  take  the  life 
of  the  first  one  of  you  that  raises  his  arm." 
They  were  both  cowed,  and  walked  oft"  like 
puppies. 


1SG3.] 


IIISTOIMCAL    MAGAZINE. 


336 


It  may  not  perhaps  be  out  of  place  to 
relate  here  auotlier  incident  illustrating 
Col.  Burr's  remarkable  ])resence  of  mind, 
Mhich  occurred  while  he  Avas  in  Paris.  He 
had  received  a  remittance  of  a  considerable 
sum  of  money,  and  his  valet  formed  a  plan 
to  rob  him  of  it  by  coming  u])on  him  una- 
wares with  a  loaded  pistol,  liurr  was  en- 
gaged in  reading  or  writing  in  his  room  at 
a  late  hour  at  night  when  the  fellow  en- 
tered with  pistol  in  hand.  Burr  recognised 
him  in  a  moment,  and  turning  suddenly 
round,  said  to  him  sternly,  "How  dare  you 
come  into  the  room  with  your  hat  on  ?'' 
The  valet,  struck  by  a  sudden  awe  and  the 
consciousness  of  having  violated  that  deco- 
rum which  had  from  habit  become  virtu- 
ally part  of  his  nature,  raised  his  arm  to 
take  off  his  hat,  when  Burr  rushed  upon 
him,  tripped  him  down,  Avrested  his  pistol 
from  him,  and  calling  lor  aid,  had  him  se- 
cured and  carried  of 

Col.  Burr,  as  is  well  known,  was  what  is 
termed  a  good  shot  with  ai)istol.  To  illus- 
trate his  skill  in  this  respect  I  will  relate  a 
circumstance  told  me  by  an  old  colored 
man  named  "  Harry,"  who  was  in  the  habit, 
while  I  was  with  Col.  Burr,  of  coming  to 
his  house  to  clean  his  boots  and  do  little 
jobs.  "Harry"  had  lived  many  years  with 
the  Colonel  while  the  hitter's  residence  was 
at  Eichmond  Plill  in  the  upper  part  of  New 
York.  The  Colonel  often  had  dinner  j^ar- 
ties,  and  after  dinner  the  gentlemen  Avould 
go  out  upon  the  back  piazza  to  enjoy  the 
air,  and  would  amuse  themselves  by  tiring 
with  a  pistol  at  apples  which  "  Harry" 
would  throw  up  for  them.  Said  "Harry," 
laughing  in  the  way  peculiar  to  an  old  Af- 
rican, "De  Colonel  Avould  hit  'cm  alnios 
ev'ry  time  while  d'oder  gentleman  couldn't 
hit  'em  at  all." 

The  charge  against  Col.  Burr  of  treason 
has  formed  a  prominent  })art  of  his  history. 
All  the  facts  developed  on  the  trial  have 
been  long  since  published,  and  it  will  not, 
of  course,  be  expected  that  I  should  refer 
to  them.  I  will  say,  however,  that  this 
was  a  subject  upon  which  he  was  always 
disposed,  whenever  proper,  to  converse  with 
those  who  were  intimate  m  ith  him.  I  my- 
self have  conversed  with  him  upon  it.     He 


said  he  had  been  entirely  misunderstood 
and  misrepresented  as  to  the  object  which 
he  had  in  view.  He  had  never,  he  stated, 
any  design  hostile  to  the  United  States  or 
any  part  of  it.  His  object  was,  as  he  said, 
to  make  himself  master  of  Mexico  and  place 
himself  at  the  head  of  it,  and  if  they  had 
let  him  alone  he  would  have  done  it.  He 
seemed  to  entertain  a  great  contempt  for 
Gen.  Wilkinson,  who  was  in  command  at 
the  South  at  the  tinie,  considering  him  a 
very  weak  man. 

Col.  Burr,  like  other  great  men,  had 
some  remarkable  ecceniricities  of  cha- 
racter. He  Avas  very  fond  of  all  sorts  of 
inventions,  and  ahvays  trying  experiments. 
He  puzzled  his  brains  for  a  long  time  to  get 
some  motive  power  which  would  avoid  the 
necessity  of  using  fire  or  steam,  of  Avhich 
Livingston  and  Fulton  then  held  the  mo- 
nopoly. He  had  models  made,  and  I  also 
got  my  ambition  excited  about  it.  But  his 
efforts  and  ray  own  philosophical  powers 
and  chemical  knowledge  fell  short,  after  a 
hard  trial,  of  accomplishing  the  object. 
One  great  end  which  he  desii-ed  to  attain 
in  housekeeping  Avas  to  save  fuel — not  mo- 
ney ;  and  I  have  knoAvn  hhn  to  go  to  an 
expense,  I  should  judge,  of  forty  or  iifty 
dollars  in  contrivances  to  save  live  dollars 
in  the  value  of  Avood  consumed.  When 
Quincy's  soap-stone  stoves  Avere  introduced 
his  experiments  Avere  almost  interminable. 

He  Avas  very  liberal  and  even  reckless  in 
spending  money  for  certain  purposes,  Avhile 
in  others,  such  as  bills  of  mechanics,  he  Avas 
very  particular  and  scrutinizing.  He  liked 
to  have  a  bill  looked  over  very  carefully, 
and  reduced  to  as  Ioav  an  amount  as  the 
case  would  admit  of,  but,  so  far  as  I  know, 
never  practised  any  dishonesty  or  refused 
to  pay  any  just  debt  which  he  had  incurred. 
A  Scotch  carpenter,  by  the  name  of  An- 
drcAV  Wright,  Avho  did  a  great  deal  of  job- 
bing carpenter's  Avork  for  liim,  and  Avhose 
bills  it  was  amongst  my  duties  to  examine, 
finding  the  course  pursued  in  relation  to 
them,  took  it  very  good-naturedly,  but 
adopted  an  ingenious  expedient  to  secure  a 
fair  amount  at  least.  He  Avould  make  a 
gross  charge  for  the  job  and  then  add  the 
items  in  detail,  can-ying  out  also  charges 


336 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE. 


[Nov., 


for  them.  I  will  not  say  the  amount  was 
intended  to  be  duplicated,  but  after  the 
ordeal  through  which  the  bill  passed,  he 
got,  probably,  what  was  fiirly  due. 

I  stated  in  a  former  part  of  this  paper 
that  Col.  Burr  was  very  temperate  in  eat- 
ing and  drinking.  Whilst  that  is  true,  it 
is  not  true  that  he  was  so  in  respect  to 
smoking.  He  was  an  inveterate  and  con- 
stant smoker.  lie  even  had  cigars  of  an 
extra  length  manufactured  to  enable  him 
the  better  to  enjoy  the  tobacco,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  avoid  the  necessity  of 
lighting  fresh  cigars  after  others  had  been 
consumed.  It  was  and  is  now  to  me  in- 
compreliensible  how  a  man  of  his  slender 
make  could  stand  such  a  constant  excite- 
ment of  his  nervous  system  and  draw  upon 
his  secretory  organs  (for  he  Avas  not  a  dry 
smokei")  witliout  being  seriously  injured  by 
it.  But  I  never  noticed  that  they  ])roduced 
any  deleterious  eifect.  His  constitution 
had  no  duubt  been  hardened  by  the  exj*©- 
sures  and  discipline  of  his  early  military 
life,  and  this  may  be  the  explanation. 
What  will  you  say  when  I  tell  you  that  in 
addition  to  this  he  took  snuif? 

He  knew  a  good  deal  about  horses,  and 
could  get  more  service  out  of  one  without 
injuring  him  than  any  man  I  ever  knew, 
lie  took  journeys  often  in  a  horse  and  gig, 
and  I  usually  accomj^anied  him.  He  would 
hire  at  a  livery  stable,  and  with  a  common 
horse  would  travel  seven  miles  an  hour  all 
the  day  through,  and  would  carry  this  rate 
sometimes  through  the  second  and  some- 
times the  third  day.  His  mode  was  to  keep 
the  horse  up  to  that  gait,  but  never  to  ex- 
ceed it.  He  never  attempted  to  pass  a 
countryman  in  a  wagon  without  asking  his 
])ermission,  and  in  this  way  he  avoided  all 
aimoyances  from  dust  in  little  races  which 
juight  otherwise  have  taken  place. 

1  have  forborne  thus  far  to  refer  to  a 
matter  connected  with  the  character  of 
Col.  Burr  an<l  identilied  almost  with  his 
name,  and  although  not  within  the  plan 
\\ith  which  1  started  in  this  notice,  I  ought 
not  perhaps  to  omit  it.  I  allude,  of  course, 
to  his  (/(dliditries.  This  is  a  topic  upon 
which  it  would  be  imixjssihle  to  speak  with 
any  particularity  without  transcending  that 


limit  of  propriety  within  which  all  public 
discussions  should  be  confined.  I  shall, 
therefore,  speak  of  it  in  the  most  general 
terms.  I  do  not  believe  that  Col.  Burr 
was  any  worse  in  this  respect  than  many 
men  of  his  own  and  of  the  present  day  who 
pass  for  better  men.  The  diftcrence  be- 
tween them  is  that  he  was  much  less  dis- 
guised, and  that  he  did  not  pretend  to  be 
what  he  was  not.  I  think  he  was  quite  as 
much  sought  alter  by  the  other  sex  as  he 
was  a  seeker.  There  seemed  indeed  to  be 
a  charm  and  fascination  about  him  which 
contiiuied  even  to  a  late  i)eriod  of  his  life, 
and  which  was  too  powerful  for  the  frail 
and  sometimes  even  for  the  strong  to  resist. 
I  know  that  he  has  been  accused  of  much 
wrong  in  that  respect,  and  it  may  be  with 
truth.  I  feel  no  disposition  to  justify  him 
in  his  course,  or  even  to  palliate  what  must 
be  regarded  in  the  best  aspect  as  a  vice. 
15ut  I  have  heard  him  say,  and  if  it  be  true 
it  is  certainly  much  in  his  favor,  that  he 
never  deceived  or  made  a  false  promise  to 
a  woman  in  his  life.  Tliis  is  much  more 
than  many  can  say  who  have  a  much  better 
name  than  he  has.  His  married  life  with 
Mrs.  Prevost  (who  had  died  before  I  went 
into  his  office)  was  of  the  most  affectionate 
character,  and  his  fidelity  never  questioned. 
There  is  another  thing,  too,  which  I  will 
add  to  his  credit.  He  was  always  a  gen- 
tlenuxn  in  his  language  and  dej)ortmcnt. 
Nothing  of  a  low,  ribald,  indecent,  or  even 
indelicate  character  ever  escaped  his  lips. 
He  had  no  disposition  to  corrupt  others. 
One  other  thing  I  will  add  in  this  connex- 
ion. Col.  Burr,  in  every  thing  relating  to 
business,  and  indeed  in  all  his  e]>istolarv  cor- 
respondence with  men,  had  a  special  regard 
for  the  maxim  that,  "  things  written  re- 
main," and  was  very  careful  as  to  what  he 
wrote.  But  with  regard  to  the  other  sex, 
such  was  his  confidence  in  them  that  he 
wrote  to  them  with  very  little  restraint. 

Some  will  ])erhaps  like  to  know  what 
were  bis  reliyloas  sentitnents.  I  do  not 
think  he  was  a  believer  in  the  liible  as  con- 
taining a  Divinely  revealed  religion,  nor  in 
the  superhuman  nature  of  Christ  and  what 
are  deemed  the  main  points  <jf  the  scheme 
of  salvation  through  Christ.     He  was,  how- 


1863.J 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZIJS-E 


337 


ever,  very  reticent  in  these  respects,  and 
may  have  been,  as  many  are,  more  of  a 
skeptic  than  a  disbeliever.  He  went  to 
churcli  occasionally  to  hear  some  remark- 
able preacher,  and  always  behaved  reve- 
rently. 

I  must  point  yon  to  one  admirable  and 
strong  characteristic  in  him.  He  sought 
with  young  men  in  whom  he  felt  an  interest 
to  graft  tliem  as  it  were  with  his  indomi- 
table will,  energy,  and  jierseverance.  I 
can  truly  say,  that  although  I  was  often 
overtasked  beyond  my  powders  and  even  to 
the  injury,  no  doubt,  of  my  health,  so  that 
his  course  seemed  to  me  to  be  over-exact- 
ing and  oppressive,  yet  that  he  constantly 
incited  me  to  progress  in  all  the  various 
modes  and  departments  of  mental  culture, 
even  in  music,  the  influence  of  which  he 
deemed  of  great  importance,  although  he 
had  but  little  taste  for  and  no  knowledo-e  of 
it  himself;  and  that  my  success  in  life,  so  far 
as  I  have  succeeded,  has  been  owing  to  the 
habits  of  industry  and  perseverance  which 
were  formed  under  his  training. 

Col.  Burr  Avas  rather  under  the  medium 
height,  but  well  proportioned,  of  light  but 
smewy  frame,  and  of  great  [jowers  of  en- 
durance both  of  body  and  mind.  His  o;ait 
was  measured,  and  rather  that  of  the  soldier 
than  the  civilian.  But  he  moved  along  so 
quietly  that  his  pace,  to  some,  might  seem 
almost  stealthy. 

As  to  the  character  of  his  mind  it  would 
be  probably  presumptuous  in  me  to  attempt 
to  analyse  it.  If  I  should  express  an  opi- 
nion it  would  be  that  it  was  not  large,  com- 
prehensive, and  philosophical,  but  rather 
quick,  penetrating,  and  discerning.  He 
Avas  a  shi-ewd  planner,  and  indefatigable 
and  persevering  in  carrying  out  his  plans, 
although  he  did  not  always  succeed  in  ac-  \ 
comphshing  them.  He  was  a  good  scholar, ' 
acquainted  with  polite  literature,  and  spoke 
the  French  and  Spanish— the  former  flu- 
ently. I  think  his  heart  was  not  in  the 
proiession  of  the  law,  but  that  he  followed 
it  principally  for  its  gains.  He -was,  how- 
ever, a  good  lawyer,  Avas  versed  in  the 
common,  civil,  and  international  law  ;  ac- 
quainted generally  with  the  reports  of  adju- 
dicated cases,  and  in  preparing  important 

HIST,  MAG.      VOL.  VII,  31 


cases  usually  traced  up  the  law  to  its  an- 
cient sources.     But  political  and  military 
life  seemed  to  interest  him  more  than  any 
thing  else,  although  he  never  neglected  his 
business.     He  prided  himself  probablvmore 
upon  his  military  qualities  than  upon  any 
I  other.     If  he  could  have  gratifled  his  ambi- 
|tion   by  becoming  King   or   Emperor  of 
j  Mexico  he  would  no  doubt  have  been  in  liis 
j  glory.     But  this  was  not  to  be.     For  years 
after  I  was  in  his  oflice  he  continued  the 
[practice  of  the  law,  but  with  his  advancing 
years  his  business  graduallv  dropped  off, 
although  the  fruits  of  the  well-known  Eden 
suits  left  him  still  a  small  fund.     His  alli- 
ance or  v^ther  mesalliance  with  Madame 
Jumel,  and  their  divorce  on  her  complaint, 
were  among  the  later  and  more  unfortunate 
events  of  his  life.     He  Avas  reduced  gra- 
dually to  obscurity  and  poverty,  and  d^ied, 
as  is  known,  on  Staten  Island  with  scarcely 
a  friend  at  his  side. 

Thus  terminated  the  career  of  one  who 
had  played  so  prominent  a  part  on  the  great 
stage  of  public  life  in  the  days  of  Washing- 
ton, Jefferson,  and  Hamilton, 

_  The  lesson  which  may  be  learned  from 
his  life  and  its  termination  is,  that  however 
distinguished  a  man  may  otherwise  be,  if 
he  lacks  those  virtues  which  are  recognised 
as  being  essential  to  the  well-being  o1'  soci- 
ety, and  sets  at  defiance  the?  opinions  and 
sentiments  of  the  community  concerning 
them,  he  can  never  permanently  succeed. 
Such  a  course  reacts  upon  its  author,  and 
there  is  an  even-handed  justice  that  com- 
mends the  ingredients  of  the  poisoned  cha- 
lice to  his  own  Hps.  He  could  have  out- 
lived the  effect  of  the  duel  with  Hamilton, 
and  even  the  influence  of  his  arrest  and 
trial  for  treason,  if  his  private  character  had 
been  such  as  to  secure  the  public  respect 
and  esteem.  But  unfortunately  it  was  not. 
Yet  it  becomes  our  duty  to  judge  our  fel- 
low-men charitably.  Few  of  us  can  afford 
to  do  otherwise.  We  cannot  tell  what 
strong  circumstances  may  have  bent  and 
permanently  inclined  his  early  disposition 
and  principles,  and  it  is  not  for  us  too 
harshly  to  condemn  him.  We  shonld  ra- 
ther strive  to  think  of  him  kindly  when  we 
contemplate  his  remarkable  character  and 


338 


HISTORICAL    ]M  A  G  A  Z  I  X  E 


[Nov., 


career,  learn  all  the  valuable  lessons  we  can 
from  his  good  qualities,  and  mitigate,  as  far 
as  we  can,  his  bad  ones. 

We  shall  breathe  now  a  little  more  freely, 
as  we  pass  from  the  portrait  which  we  have 
been  for  some  time  contemplating,  to  ano- 
ther ;  and  that  is  of  Caleb  S.  Riggs,  a 
gentleman  who,  in  his  day,  was  known 
principally  as  a  great  chancery  lawyer. 

Mr.  Riggs  kept  his  oflice  in  Pine  street, 
Xew  York,  and  was  a  remarkable  man. 
He  was  well  versed  in  equity-law  and  prac- 
tice, and  had  i)robably  the  largest  Chan- 
cery business  of  any  lawyer  at  the  New 
York  bar.  That  ^^'as  his  particular  depart- 
ment and  specialty.  Those  were  the  days 
of  huge  bundles  of  papers  and  large  bills  of 
costs,  when  proceedings  were  paid  for  by 
the  folio,  and  when  a  short  story  was  usu- 
ally spun  out  into  a  very  long  one.  A  bill 
in  Chancery  was  a  cui'iosity  to  a  person 
v.'ho  had  never  seen  one,  and  the  unlucky 
defendant  found  himself  charged  with  a 
hundred  things,  and  with  making  a  hun- 
diX'd  pretences  to  justify  himself  which  he 
never  dreamed  of  The  com})lainant  was 
called  in  the  bill  "  The,  Orator;'  and  he 
was  a  very  prolix  one.  After  a  cause  Avas 
ri})e  for  hearing  on  the  pleadings  and  proofs, 
the  latter  of  which  were  taken  and  reduced 
to  writing  in  an  examiner's  otiice,  it  came 
on  for  argument  before  the  Chancellor. 
At  the  time  to  which  I  refer,  the  celebrated 
and  distinguished  James  Kent,  father  of 
the  late  Judge  AVilliam  Kent,  was  Chan- 
cellor. Mr.  Riggs,  of  course,  always  had  a 
pretty  large  share  of  the  business  to  be 
done  in  court.  He  was  very  patient  and 
thorough  in  his  examination  and  prepara- 
tion of  a  cause,  and  seklom  failed  of  success 
where  he  ought  to  have  succeeded.  He 
was  not  an  eloquent  or  very  interesting 
speaker,  but  he  was  i)ertinacious  in  the 
extreme.  His  personal  ai)pearance  was 
unique.  I  trust  I  shall  not  be  considered 
as  evincing  any  disrespect  for  his  memory, 
for  he  was  ceitainly  an  able  man,  when  I 
state  that  his  face  was  somewhat  spare  and 
sallow,  and  that  the  muscles  of  his  coun- 
tenance had  a  sort  of  smiling  rigidity  of 
expiession  which  never  varied  during  the 
whole  course  of  an  argument.     When  he 


got  going  he  moved  along  with  a  measured 
pace,  and  there  was  no  stopping  him.  He 
was  never  discouraged  by  intimations  from 
the  court,  however  adverse.  It  was  amus- 
ing, and  indeed  irresistibly  ludicrous  to  an 
observer,  to  witness  the  scenes  which  would, 
sometimes  take  place  between  him  and  the 
Chancellor.  Mr.  Riggs  would  often,  in 
addressing  the  Couit,  take  up  a  pen  and 
hold  it  out  horizontally  before  him,  and  one 
of  his  favorite  expressions  was  "  now  I  un- 
dertake to  say."  I  recollect  particularly 
one  occasion  when  the  Chancellor,  who 
was  a  good-natured  man,  but  had  a  limit  to 
his  patience,  had  heard  Mr.  Riggs  through 
a  long  argument  and  was  satisfied  that  he 
was  wrong,  and  that  the  ground  taken  by 
him  was  untenal)le.  He  expressed  this 
opinion  to  him  in  his  ofi-hand  way,  and  so 
decidedly,  that  it  was  plain  he  didn't  wish 
to  hear  anything  more.  But  Mr.  Riggs 
was  not  to  be  thus  put  down.  The  Chan- 
cellor was  seated  in  his  chair  in  the  court- 
room in  the  City  Hall,  New  York,  with  a 
window  on  one  side  looking  towards  Chat- 
ham street  and  a  window  on  the  other  side 
looking  towards  Broadway.  After  the 
Chancellor  had  expressed  his  views,  as  just 
mentioned,  Mr.  Riggs  began,  "  Now,  if 
your  Honor  please"  (balancing  forward  his 
pen),  "  I  undertake  to  say" — "I  don't  care 
what  you  undertake  to  say,  Mr.  Riggs," 
says  the  Chancellor,  "  my  mind's  made 
up" — "  But  if  your  Honor  Avould  only 
hear — "  "  I  have  heard  you  fully,  Mr.  Riggs, 
and  don't  want  to  hear  anything  more." 
"  But  if  your  Honor  please,  there  are  some 
considerations  Avhich  I  think  I  could  ad- 
duce which  would" — with  this  the  Chan- 
cellor Avaxed  impatient,  turned  suddenly 
and  looked  out  towards  Chatham  street, 
saying,  "Talk  away,  but  there's  no  use  in 
it,  my  mind's  made  up."  "  Now  if  your 
Honor  please,"  rejoined  Mr.  Riggs,  "I 
think  I  may  safely  undertake  to  say — " 
Upon  this  the  Chancellor  twisted  himself 
about  and  looked  out  towards  Broadway, 
saying,  "  Talk  away — talk  away — talk  all 
day,  but  it's  of  no  use."  In  a  moment  or 
two  the  Chancellor  shil'ted  towartls  Chat- 
ham street,  and  then  again  towards  Broad- 
way, pretending  not  to  hear,  till  at  length 


1863. 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE 


339 


Mr.  Rigors,  ■svithout  nmnifesting  tlie  least 
disturliaiu-e  of  iniiid,  hnt  finding  it  useless 
to  continue  longer,  reluctantly,  yet  quietly 
and  pleasantly,  took  his  seat.  This  was, 
however,  no  sure  indication  that  the  case 
would  be  decided  against  him  ;  for  Mr. 
Riggs  knew  well,  as  everybody  did,  tliat  if 
upon  further  reflection  and  further  exami- 
nation the  Chancellor  should  be  satisHed 
he  was  wrong,  he  would  recede  from  what 
miirht  have  been  a  too  hasty  opinion. 

Mr.  Riggs  occui)ied  the  highest  position 
in  social  lile,  and  was  much  esteemed  for 
his  amenity  and  private  virtues. 

I  will  next  attem|tt  to  give  you  a  glimpse 
of  Tiiojr.vR  Addis  Emmeit.  Mr.  P^mmett, 
as  is  well  known,  was  one  of  the  patriot 
exiles  of  Ireland,  who  came  over  to  this 
country  with  ])r.  McKevin,  Mr.  Sampson, 
and  others.  Though  not  so  illustrious  \)ev- 
haps,  in  one  sense,  as  his  martyr-brother 
of  that  coimtry,  yet  he  was  a  man  of  the 
highest  order  of  intellect  and  of  the  most 
noble  qualities  of  character.  As  a  lawyer 
he  had  no  superior  at  the  New  York  bar. 
He  was  both  learned  and  eloquent,  and 
shone  with  equal  brilliancy  before  a  jury 
and  before  the  bench.  His  style  of  speak- 
ing was  fervid  and  impassioned,  and  al- 
though he  had  a  slight  national  accent  and 
by  no  means  an  attractive  face,  yet  so 
agreeable  was  his  voice  and  so  fluent  and 
graceful  his  diction,  that  he  constrained  the 
attention  and  secured  the  admiration  of  his 
hearers.  During  an  argument  he  would 
often  get  his  left  arm  behind  him,  and  if, 
as  was  sometimes  the  case,  a  quill  pen  (the 
only  kind  then  in  use)  was  in  his  hand,  it 
would  soon  be  ground  up  and  fall  in  powder 
to  the  floor.  Yet  he  never  was  over-ex- 
cited, and  at  the  close  of  an  address  re- 
lapsed at  once  into  a  state  of  serenity.  He 
could  bear  an  adverse  decision  most  philo- 
sophically and  tranquilly.  I  have  seen  him 
when  his  Avhole  soul  appeared  to  be  en- 
gaged in  an  arduous  effort,  and  when  all 
his  powers  of  mind  and  body  were  thrown 
into  the  highest  state  of  excitement,  and 
when  he  seemed  sure  of  success,  disap- 
pointed by  an  adverse  result ;  yet  he  w'ould 
take  it  with  but  the  slightest  if  any  evi- 
dence of  disturbance.     This  struck  me  at 


the  time,  as  it  does  still,  as  a  very  rare  qua 
lity.  He  was  a  man  of  a  high  sense  of 
honor,  and  was  never  known  to  do,  and 
was  indeed  incapable  of  doing,  any  thing 
that  Avas  mean,  unworthy,  or  ungentlemanly. 
The  principal  points  of  some  of  his  best 
legal  arguments  are  to  be  found  in  the 
volumes  of  the  law-reports  of  this  State, 
but  they  can,  of  course,  give  no  idea  of  his 
style.  Mr.  Ennnett  was  of  the  full  ordi- 
nary height,  rather  stout  in  ])erson,  with  a 
fine  head  which  was  somewhat  bald,  was 
near-sighted,  and  used  a  single  eye-glass, 
which  was  suspended  in  front.  Ill's  honor- 
able character  and  a  resi)eetablo  share  of 
his  talent  descended  to  his  sons  Robert  and 
Thomas  Addis  Emmett,  the  former  of  whom 
is  still  living  in  Kew  York. 

These  are,  of  course,  the  merest  sketches, 
or  rather  outlines— my  whole  object  being 
to  give  you,  as  briefly  as  I  can,  a  concep- 
tion of  the  general  and  striking  character- 
istics of  the  men  of  whom  I  speak. 

I  will  next  endeavor  to  give  you  some 
idea  of  another  celebrated  lawyer — Wil- 
liam Slosson.  He  kept  his  oflic'e  for  many 
years  at  the  north-west  corner  of  Nassau 
and  Cedar  streets.  He  was  a  slender  man 
physically,  of  very  little  force  of  manner, 
but  one  of  the  most  sensible  and  clear- 
minded  men  and  best  reasoners  of  his  dav. 
As  a  mere  lawyer  he  certainly  had  no  su- 
perior, and  I  think  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  he  may  be  justly  considered  as  having 
been  the  most  eminent  man  at  the  New 
York  bar  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak. 
No  one  was  listened  to  with  more  respect 
by  the  judges  or  the  bar,  although  his 
voice  was  somewhat  feeble,  and  conse- 
quently not  as  effective  as  it  would  other- 
wise have  been.  He  had  a  very  extensive 
practice,  both  in  the  common-law  courts 
and  in  chancery,  and  the  M'onder  is  now  to 
me  that  with  so  slight  a  frame  and  delicate 
a  constitution  as  he  seemed  to  have,  he 
was  able  to  do  justice  to  it.  One  of  his 
most  celebrated  cases  was  one  in  which 
Col.  Burr  was  opposed  to  him — the  case  of 
Novion  vs.  Hallett.  It  grew  out  of  a  cap- 
ture of  a  vessel  made  by  a  little  French 
privateer  called  the  "  Marengo:''  The  cap- 
ture was  no  doubt  illegal,  and  Mr.  Slosson 


ZiO 


HISTORIC  A  L    31  A  G  A  Z  I  X  E 


[Nov. 


brouGjlit  an  action  of  trover  in  the  Supreme  j  miliar  terras  with  pretty  much  all  the  farm- 


Conrt  to  recoA'er  the  vnhie  of  the  vessel 
and  cavfTo.  Burr,  instead  of  attempting  to 
maintain  the  legality  of  the  capture,  took 
mainly  the  ground  that  the  Common-Law 
Courts  had  no  jurisdiction  -when  a  vessel 
was  taken  as  a  prize-of-war,  but  that  it  was 
a  case  for  the  Admiralty  Courts.  The  con- 
test was  long,  and  much  learning  was  dis- 
played on  both  sides,  but  Slosson  suc- 
ceeded. His  success,  however,  was  but 
temporary.  The  perseverance  of  Burr  in- 
duced him  to  take  the  decision  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  to  the  Court  of  Errors,  where 
the  judgment  was  unanimously  reversed  on 
the  ground  taken  by  Col.  Burr.  In  this 
case  at  least  Burr  showed  himself  to  be  the 
better  lawyer  of  the  two.  It  Avas  seldom, 
howevci-,  that  Mr.  Slosson  failed  in  event- 
ually establishing  his  opinions  on  legal  sub- 
jects to  be  correct ;  and  with  regard  to  the 
case  in  question  my  impression  is  that  no 
other  available  course  was  left  open  to  Mr. 
Slosson  at  the  time  than  the  one  he  pur- 
sued. 

The  present  Judge  Slosson  of  New  York 
is,  I  beheve,  a  son  of  William  Slosson. 

It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  I  next  turn 
to  present  to  you  a  hastily  drawn  portrait 
of  Elisha  W.  Kixg,  another  prominent 
member  of  the  New  York  Bar  in  the  time 
of  which  I  speak.  I  spent  some  time  in  his 
othce  after  1  left  that  of  Col.  Burr.  Mr. 
King  was  well  known,  and  Avas  indeed  a 
favorite  on  Long  Island,  and  particularly 
in  Kings  County,  where  he  was  engaged  in 
the  most  important  cases  that  were  tried 
there ;  and  he  had  a  very  handsome  prac- 
tice in  New  York.  He  was  also  an  Alder- 
man of  the  City  of  New  York  for  some 
years  at  a  time  when  it  was  esteemed  an 
honor  to  hold  that  office,  because  who  did 
hold  it  were  worthy  and  honorable  men. 
Personally  Mr.  King  was  of  handsome 
exterior,  and  in  conversation  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  and  affable  of  men  ;  fond 
of  social  intercourse  and  capable  of  telling 
a  good  story  ;  and  owing  to  these  qualities 
and  his  official  influence  he  had  hosts  of 
friends.  He  was  a  fluent  and  forcible 
speaker,  and  tried  a  cause  with  admirable 
tact.     He  was  on  friendly  and  almost  la- 


ers  and  others  who  composed  the  jury,  and 
was  consequently  always  listened  to  with  a 
favorable  dispo.^ition  on  their  part.  He 
would  never  fail  to  amuse  them  with  a 
good  story  in  sumniing-u])  a  case,  would 
contrive  to  pass  around  his  snuft"-box  among 
them  once  or  twice,  and  unless  his  case 
was  a  very  bad  one  indeed,  he  would  gene- 
rally win  it.  Although,  as  may  be  supposed 
from  what  I  have  said,  Mr.  King  was  a 
very  genial  man,  yet  he  was  also  character- 
ized by  a  remarkable  degree  of  firmness 
and  inflexibility.  Those  who  imagined  from 
his  good-nature  that  his  principles  were  as 
yielding  as  his  disposition  was  gentle,  foi;nd 
themselves  wonderfully  mistaken.  His  in- 
tegrity was  of  the  highest  order,  and  his 
honesty  of  purj^ose  was  as  firm  as  adamant. 
]\Ir.  King  was  a  very  kind  man,  ever  ready 
to  serve  a  friend  and  to  do  a  gooil  act  to 
others.  He  died  in  Brooklyn,  and  during 
his  last  illness  received  the  affectionate 
visits  of  many  of  his  friends.  To  those 
who  knew  and  recollect  him,  and  there 
are  many  still  living  who  do  so,  it  will  be 
unnecessary  for  me  to  say  that  there  are 
perhaps  none  to  whose  memory  they  can 
look  back  with  more  true  esteem  and  re- 
gard. As  an  example  of  a  professional 
man  of  unusual  talent,  who  pursued  an  ho- 
norable and  successful  career,  a  fiiithful  and 
able  public  officer,  a  kind  husband  and 
father,  and  a  warm  friend,  fl-w  have  been 
his  equals. 

After  speaking  of  Mr.  King  in  connexion 
with  this  county,  my  thoughts  are  natu- 
rally turned  to  Peti:r  W.  IIaixliff,  one 
of  his  cotemporaries,  who  kept  his  oflice  hi 
New  York,  but  resided  in  this  city.  ]\Ir. 
RadcliffAvas  a  remarkable  as  well  as  an  ex- 
cellent and  able  man.  My  friend  N.  F. 
Waring,  Esq.,  Avas  for  several  years  a  stu- 
dent in  his  otflce,  and  probably  could  give 
many  interesting  reminiscences  concerning 
him.  But  I  knew  him  many  years,  and  was 
on  terms  of  friendship  and  intercourse  with 
him.  When  1  s;iy  that  he  was  a  remarkable 
man,  I  mean  in  reference  to  his  peculiar 
characteristics.  He  was  a  very  ])recise  man, 
and  very  methodical  in  Avhat  he  tlid.  He 
made  out  every  night  what  he  termed  an 


lu 


1S63.J 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE 


341 


affe?ida--emhyacm<r  all  that  he  had  to  at- 
tend to  the  next  day.     This  Avas  on  a  nar- 
row slip  of  paper,  and  as  each  matter  re- 
ceived Its  proper  share  of  attention  it  was 
struck   off.     He   was  a   very   industrious, 
])ains-takiiig,  and  thorough  man  in  examin- 
ing the  papers  appertaining  to  a  case,  and 
in  his  investigations  of  the^legal  questions 
appertaining  to  them.     His  bi-iefs  were  very 
lull  and  his  arguments  thorough— so  much 
so  that  Judge  Edwards,  one  of  our  most 
able  Circuit  Judges,  used  to  say  of  them 
that  they  were  like  a  drag-net,  leaving  no- 
thing behind  them.     Another  remarkable 
ieature   m   Mr.    Kaddiff's   character   was 
that,  notwithstanding  his  admitted  ability 
and  industry,  he  seldom  felt  an  entire  con- 
lidence  in  the  correctness  of  his   conclu- 
sions     He  could  see  some  point  of  difficulty 
or  thought  he  could  see  it.     In  consulta- 
tions he  would  often  evince  this  peculiarity 
and  a  common  form  of  expression  with  him 
when  an  answer  was  suggested  to  his  diffi- 
culties was  "  Quere  de  hoc,''  tapping  at  the 
same  time  on  his  snuffbox.     Mr.  Radcliff 
was  a  gentleman  of  naturally  a  very  warm 
and  excitable  temperament.     But  he  was 
extremely  kind  and  benevolent,  and  he  had 
so  disciplined  himself  that  he  never  allowed 
himselt  to  show  anger  or  ill-feeling.     I  have 
seen  his  patience  and  temper  so  severely 
tried  in  the  j^ractice  of  his  profession  in 
court  that  his  blood  would  become  suffused 
and  seem  to  be  almost  ready  to  spin  throuo-h 
his  face,  and  yet  he  would  preserve  his  for- 
bearance and  moderation.     He  would  be 
indignant,  however,  in   denouncino-  fraud 
and  wrong,  and  no  one  guilty  of  it  could 
look  to  his  gentleness  to  protect  him  fi-om 
the  severest  condemnation.     Mr.  Radcliff 
had  a  very  extensive  practice  in  the  courts 
ot  JNew  lork,  and  was  engaged  in  some  of 
tlie  most  important  land  and  commercial 
cases.     He  ranked  amongst  the  most  re- 
spectable and  able  of  the  New  York  Bar 
He  was  a]:)pointed,  and  served  for  several 
years,  as  First  Judge  of  Kings  County,  the 
duties  ot_  which  office  he  discharged  with 
great  ability  and  impartiality.     As  a  pri- 
vate citizen  no  one  was  more  universally  or 
iHghly  esteemed.      He  resided,    as   many 
will  recollect,  m  a  house  on  the  north-west 


side  of  Columbia  street,  and  had  a  beautiful 
garden  in  the  rear  extending  to  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  which  was  tilled   with   choice 
fruit  trees,  vines,  flowers,  and  shrubs,  in 
which  he  took  great  delight.     By  the  grad- 
ing of  Furman  street  a  great  part  of  the 
slope  of  the  hill  which  had  formed  the  sup- 
port of  his  grounds  was  cut  otF  and  his 
grounds  gave  way— his  garden  was  ruined, 
and  the  beauty  and  charm  of  his  residence 
destroyed.      This   was   a  severe   blow   to 
Judge  Radcliff,  and  he  never  got  over  it. 
He  sued  the  city  for  redress,  but  could  not 
obtain  It.     The  courts  held  that  the  city 
had  a  right  to  grade  the  street,  and  that  his 
loss   was  damnum  absque  injuria — a  da- 
mage without  wrong.     It  was  a  hard  case, 
and  it  seems  to  be  hard  law  ;  but  the  Couit 
ot    Errors    affirmed    the    decision.       The 
Judge's  sensitive  nature  did  not  long  sur- 
vive this  trial,  and  he  died  but  a  few  years 
1  afterwards.      There   are   few    men    upon 
whose  memory  those  who  knew  him  and 
who  still  live,  will  look  back  with  more 
aflectionate  regard  than  upon  his. 
_  Tliere  are  others  whom  I  ought  to  men- 
tion, and  of  whom  I  may  speak,  if  I  should 
be  spared  to  do  so,  at  some  other  time. 
JoHx  Wells,  the  elegant  and  classic  John 
Wells  I  may  call  him,  is  one  of  these,  of 
whom  as  a  man  somewhat  identified  with 
Brooklyn,  and  holding  a  place  at  the  bar 
second  to  no  other  lawyer  of  his  time,  it 
would  be  proper  to  speak  at  some  length. 
But  this  paper  is  already  sufficiently  ex- 
tended. 

_  The  men  of  whom  I  have  endeavored  to 
give  you  some  slight  idea  were  lawyers  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  term.  They  differed, 
no  doubt,  considerably  from  some  of  the' 
lawyers  of  the  present  time,  who  share  the 
protessional  business  which  is  transacted  in 
New  York  and  elsewhere.  There  are  se- 
veral reasons  why  they  did  so.  Popula- 
tion, commerce,  and  all  the  varieties  of 
business  have  since  that  time  very  larcrely 
increased;  the  number  of  suits  and°the 
business  requiring  a  lawyer's  attention  are 
probably  twenty  fold  greater  than  they  for- 
merly were  ;  and  consequently  cases  must 
be  prepared  and  disposed  of  with  more  ra- 
pidity than  was  then  requisite.     I  trust  I 


342 


HISTORICAL    MAGAZINE 


fihall  not  be  consirlercd  unjust  to  the  mem-  aspire,  nnrl  in  Avhich  it  may  command  the 
hers  of  tlie  profession  oftiie  present  d.w  if  |  respect  and  admiration  of  society. 
I  also  express  the  oinnion  that  the  esprit  de 
corps  which  then  characterized  tlic  profes- 
sion is  not  now,  generally  speaking,  equally  i 
great.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  are 
not  some  shining  and  l^riliiant  lights  who 
are  worthy  exceptions.  But  of  the  profes- 
sion taken  at  large,  I  think  it  will  be  ad- 
mitted that  it  does  not  occupy  so  high  a 
position  as  it  did  in  the  days  of  which  I 
speak.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  also  that 
the  total  relaxation  which  has  been  made 
in  respect  to  the  term  of  study  and  clerk- 
ship which  was  formerly  required  to  entitle 
a  young  man  to  admission  to  the  bar,  has, 
in  many  instances,  ])roved  highly  detri- 
mental to  the  character  of  the  profession, 
so  that  the  general  standard  of  attainment 
has  become  much  reduced.  This  evil  has 
been  seen,  and  I  am  happy  to  believe  that 
our  judges,  conforming  to  the  wish  of  the 
profession,  are  disposed  to  require  a  more 
thorough  examination  as  to  qualification 
than  has  been  ado])ted.  Such  an  examina- 
tion seems  absolutely  requisite  when  we 
consider  that  as  the  law  now  stands  no 
term  whatever  of  study  or  clerkship  is  pre- 
scribed. 

The  profession  of  the  law  is  a  noble  one. 
Some  of  the  most  distinguished  champions 
of  civil  liberty  have  adorned  its  ranks,  and 
from  those  ranks  some  of  the  most  eminent 
statesmen,  both  of  England  and  America, 
have  sprung. 

In  our  present  national  struggle  it  has 
nobly  resjjonded  to  the  country's  call,  and 
among  others  the  names  of  the  gallant  and 
lamented  Baker,  of  l>atler,  Sickles,  and 
Bawks,  have  become  illustrious.  Indeed  I 
am  iiifoi'med  by  one  who  has  occupied  a 
])Osition  which  entitles  his  statement  to  con- 
fidence, that  the  legal  profession  has  fur- 
nished more  oflicers  to  the  army  than  any 
other  profession  or  occupation. 

Let  us  cherish  the  hope,  then,  that  it  may 
not  lose  its  honoraltle  character — that  a 
just  pride  and  laudable  ambition,  founded 
in  an  ai)prL'ci.ition  and  love  of  true  great- 
ness, may  animate  its  members,  and  con- 
tinue to  increase  until  it  shall  take  that  high 
position  to  which  it  is  entitled  and  should 


Papers  Hay 
Relate  to  Burr 


hcumeiits  Taken  From  Zebu-\ 
Ion  Pike  One  Hundred  Years  j 
Ago  Found    in    Archives  q/} 

How    much    fli(i    Zebulon    M.    I'iUc 
know  about,  the  Aaroa  B\ut  con- , 
sniracyV      'J^'his      question,      hrst 
i-aisod  100  years  ago,  is  still  im- 1 
settlpil  10  the  satisfaction  of  the! 
scientific   historians,    and      now      t^O"!^^  j 
word  from  Mexico  that  is  likely  to  raise 
the  point  onco  more,  perhaps  to  deur-i 
mine  it  Hually.     It  is  ->»  ,"»l">i-t;)»t  l*^';)'';  - 
too.  for  i'ike  is  Keuerally  credited  wit  i 
havms?  been  a   true  patriot  am    Ji  man 
•.^f  unsullied  honor,  a  soldier  who  li\«<i. 
fought  and  died  for  his  country,   while  i 
his  fame  af>  an  explorer  is  world-wide.     | 
The  news  from  Mexico  which  is  excil- 
imr  the  hisloriaiis  was  perhaps  entirely  ( 
.verlookcd    by    the    average    uewspapei  j 
I .  ader.     It  consisted  of  a  very  briet  (ti>-  . 
patch,  published  two  or  three  days  ago.  ^ 
to   the   effect   that   there   had   been   dis- ; 
covered  among  the  Mexican  archives  the 
papers  which  were  taken  trom  I^ic"teu- 
ant    Pike   when   he  was»   captured   neui 
Santa   Fe  in  1807.     These  papers  may 
levi'al  much  as  to  what  has  always  been  | 
hidden  ill  the  Burr  conspicacy,  or  the>  i 
mav  turn  out  to  be  nothing  more  than 
geographical    notes    and    descriptions    ot  , 
The    couutry,    for   which    purpose    alone 
I'ike's  expedition  was  ostensibly  uudei- 
lakeu.  1 

'     SENT    BY    WILKINSON'. 
\i    the    time   of    making   this  expedition 
iiii.)   New   Mexiof  Pike   was  only   lii    years 
X     "a    lieuteuaut    iu     the    iWd    States 
Aruiv     It  was  nudertakeu  almost  lumieUi- 
•ately  upon  his  return   to  St.   Lou  s  trom  a 
somewhat  similar  expedition  to  the  so  ace 
of  the  Mississippi  Kiver.     Pike  ^«"t  ";i^.«\ 
.the    orders      and      mstructious   of    <.^f»«';^' 
James    Wilkinson.    Commauder-iu-thief    of 
the  armv,   and  as  arch  a  traitor  as  Buii 
bimself. -though  so  adroit  that  he  i"aHaged 
to  become  (•ommander-in-Chief  again  aftei 
he  had  been  dismissed  and  tried  foi   tiea- 
Uou     Pikes    official    instructions    were    to 
Study  and  map  the  water  courses  down  to 
the  southern   extremities  of  our  newly-ac- 
nuired    Louisiana,   to   maintain   and   cement 
friendly    relations  with   tlie   Spaniards  and 
to  take  good  care  of  one  Dr.  J.   li.  Robiu- 
Igon.   who  was  going  along  with  Inm   as   a 
'•voluuteer,"    the    remainder    of    the    part> 
iconsistiug  of  regular  enlisted  soldiers 
I    As  soon  as   Pike  returned  to   the  Lmted 
'States    after    mouths    of    wandering    inter 
tst    in    the    results   of    his    expedition    w.-is 
Ishowa  everywhere,  and  when  these  lesults 
Iwere    published    they     were    sought    wltn 
avidity.    The   .iealous   policy   of    hpain    had 
alwavs  surrounded  her  Mexican  possessions 
with" such  guards  and  restraints  as  to  ren- 
Ider    thera      inaccessible      and    mysterious. 
About   all   that   was   known    of    the   region 


hy  Americans  was  v\hat  had  come  in  the 
siories  of  a  much  earlier  time,  when  Span- 
ish explorers  were  marching  through  the 
f  onntr.T,  civilizing  it  and  roltbing  it  of  as 
much  as  they  could  carry  of  its  fabulous 
wealth  in  gold  and  oth<ir  pre<"ious  mer- 
rhandise.  It  was  a  fairyland  lying  at  our 
very  doors,  peopled  with  ii  civilization 
which  had  developed  Its  riches,  yet  un- 
ikuown  to  us.  an  inspiration  to  the  imagl- 
[natlon  of  the  explorer  and  a  whip  to  the 
appetite  of  the  fortune-hunter. 

STOHY  E.\Gl'.aLY  SOUGIIT  1-OU. 
The  expedition  had  also  Included  a  trip 
Ito  that  great  mountain  peak  iu  Colorado, 
'then  so  little  known  thai,  it  received 
ilMke's  name,  under  which  It  has  ever  since 
been  known.  AVith  this  and  with  the  suf- 
ti  rings  from  exposun;  and  the  encounters 
wiih  outlaws,  J'ugiiives,  lost  and  wander- 
ing remnants  of  former  abortive  attempts 
'  to  explore,  and  mysterious  outcasts  held 
captive  by  the  Spaniards,  the  account  of 
this  trip  wiis  one  to  catch  the  fancy  of 
•■very  sort  of  reader. 

The  first  edition  of  Pike's  journal  was 
published  in  this  city  by  C.  &;  A.  Conrad 
within  a  year  of  his  return,  and,  edited  by 
Pike  himself,  was  so  hurriedly  thrown  to- 
gether as  to  be  confusing.  Soon  a  Lon- 
don edition  was  published,  then  one  in 
l*''rench,  then  one  in  Dutch.  Siuce  then 
cditious  have  appeared  from  time  to  time 
in  this  country,  in  response  to  a  contin- 
uiiiK  demand.  The  last  was  published  in 
3ISii,"5.  the  editor  being  that  really  scientific 
investigator.  KUiott  Clones.  It  contains  a 
memoir  of  Pike  and  throws  much  new  light 
on  tlie  whole  subject,  but  still  leaves  un- 
answered the  iiuestion  as  to  whether  Pike 
was  an  agent  of  Wilkinson,  unconscious 
or  otherwise,  iu  the  matter  of  the  Burr  I 
eonspiracy.  Dr.  Cloues  assumes  that  Pike  ' 
was  a  high-minded,  patriotic  soldier,  but 
after  bringing  uuich  inconclusive  but  al- 
wa.vs  interesting  evidence,  tinally  gives  it 
up,  leaving  the  matter  to  be  (letermined 
by  the  discovery  of  new  documents. 
THIC  MYSTElilOUS  ItOBINSON. 
Wilkinson,  who  revealed  the  Burr  con- 
spiracy to  the  Government  in  order  to  save 
himself  and,  perhaps,  to  enter  into  still, 
deeper  treachery,  is  known  now  to  have 
lieea  at  one  time  one  of  Burr's  .conspira- 
tors and  the  shrewdest  schemer  of  them 
all.  He  gave  all  the  otlicial  iustructiou  to 
Pike  conceruiug  the  expedition,  and  iu  his 
several  personal  letters,  uuearthcd  by  Dr. 
Cloues,  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  on  its 
face  that  the  young  explorer  was  on  any 
other  business  than  a  Goverument  mission. 
All  that  Pike  knew  of  Ilobinson,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  .iournal,  was  that  he  had 
a  "private  claim  lo  collect  for  u  St.  Louis 
merchant  for  goods  traded  with  the  Span- 
iards. Pike  didn't  think  the  claim  was 
gooil,  or  that  Kohinsou  would  be  success- 
iu\.  Cloues  writes  Kobinsou  down  as  a 
.spy  without  liesilation. 

Pike  and  his  little  party  made  a  winter 
camp  on  the  Conejos  Kiver,  tlie  west  fork 
of  the  Rio  Grande.  This  was  on  Spanish 
territory,  but  Pike  said  iu  his  journal,  and 
subsequently  to  his  captors,  that  he  had 
supposed  himself  to  be  on  the  Ked  River. 
Dr.  Cloues  is  not  the  first  one  to  point  cut 
that  Pike  could  uot  have  supposed  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  and  he  infers  that  I'lke 
had  "gone  there  perhaps  for  maps,  perhaps 
on  purpose  to  be  captured,  perhaps  by 
prQvious  arrangement  between  Wilkinson 
and  the  Spanish.  Kven  at  that  he  may 
have  had  papers  of  which  he  did  not  know 
the  contents  or  purport.  Also  his  state- 
u)ent  that  lie  thought  himself  on  the  Red 
Jliver  and  in  American  territory  may  have 
been  to  prevent  friction  between  the  two 
.'govenimeuts.  He  makes  no  such  explana- 
tion, however,  iu  his  published  accounts 
of  the  trip. 


nent's  "entire    contideiice   In    the    integ 


iko,  I 


•    «o   aloiio    to 

Unew  exactly 

'I'..",    li..    u  1^     i-r    iH-    i.M''Ui'<l    Santa    Fe 

,k   it   time   to   m-eive  a   visit 

Mish  01-  their  emlssurios.     anci 

i„    a    few    days   after    Kobln- 

,  i.aiiuni.    a    message   came    to    bhu 

,'hivitailon    to   "visif     the  Spans 

,1^  at    Santa    Fo.      Seeing   ^t'    ^ ""' ^ 

luiveil    to    accept    this    invitation    J   Ija* 

St  n.l    a    little    and    then    went,,  taking 

of  his  parrv    less  than  a  score  m  num- 

i.;:,-    with  ^  iu :     At   Sauta    Ke   he   was   re- 

'v'ed  of%ome  of  his  Papei«.   ";'t  >-^-t,uned 

..t|,f.i-s     There,  i.h),  he  met  his  late  tia\(i 

_-'eompanlon.   Uobinson.     but     V^^^^^ 

I   to  know   him.     Very   shortly   Pike    his 

Sanation   ae.epUHl.    -"«  ^^t •}'•,•• '   ^^^  <^s,| 

•ill  escort,  on  h  s  way  out  of  the  Spanl>n 

i     rv       1  is    trunk    full    of    papers    went 

..i        liim.    hut    at    fhihaukna    the    Spanish 

;,mmau'i;-.-ln-chief  said  i',\""'m d"'  'IS 

stay    t«    retain    tlieiu      and    he    did.     IhefeC 

;.re  doubtless  the  papers  .i"«t  discovered 

AVhc-ther  he  was  a   messenger  fiom   Hull 
or   Wilkii  sou   oi-   not  Pike   was  very   coiir- 
pmislv  treated       He   was  never   a  captive 
,ev  ,ud  bo  1  g  required  to  leave  the  country 
nder  escort      He  was  taken  to  American 
m-itoiv  a     a  point   now   within  the  pres- 
ent boundaries  of  Louisiana,  and  there  "le- 
o-ised"     While  in  Santa  Fe  and  en  route 
b  01  -h    the    Spanish    territory    Pike    kept 
his  eves  and  ears  open,  as  usual,  and  not-  i 
ed^iany  intnresting^hlngs      lie  met  sume  ; 
of  the  rasRPd  surveyors  of  the  Nolan  paitT. 
who    venturing  into  the  country  about  the  1 
year    1S(X).    had    never   returned.      He   also 
fmmd   Tr.niner,    a    murderer,    who   ha.l   fled , 
from  St.  Louis  year.s  before    liyinp:  a  fugi- 
Tve    tn.der    the    name    of    Henderson.      He, 
lirst   leanied  in   the  Mexican   papers  while  ' 
Sai  ta  Fe  that  Burr  was  being  tried  for 
,"uspii"cy.    and    make*   a   very    brief   note 
of  It  in  his  journal.  ^    ,     ^    i 

P  ke    was    overdue      when      at     ast    he 
rea-hed     Amerlean     territory.    ,  >V-ilkmsou 
wrote  to  him   at  once,    telling   him  of   the 
llurr  affair    and   that   he   himself   iWUkm- 
soiO    was  accused   of   complicity,    and  add- 
in"  that,  therefore,  ''you  must  be^cautioub, 
xtremeiv    cautious,    how    you    breathe    a 
Mord   of   nil    that   you  may   have   to   tel  .     , 
•ike  at  once  wrote  a  Ions  letter  in  reply, 
naking  oulv  a   bare   refereu.'e  at   the   end 
i       the   a"cu\=ations   against    Wilkinson   and 
,.hin"iufr'at   oiico   into  a   long   explanation 
I,f  how   he  had   been   received  and  treated 
liv  the  Spanish  authorities. 
•-T  will  omit."  writes  Pike,  "the  hauteur 

of  mv  reception  (by  the  Spanish  Goyernor|  | 

Mjre  but  in  the  evening,  finding  the  laaiis 
of  San  a  f"  «rre  treating  them  to  wine.  I 
was  apim-hensive  that  Intemperance  might 

^^'jJiriiall'ma'l'en   back   long  before ^ 

became  aware  of  gossip  V"  ,  ^;,^'^,  '  ssa  4 
he  had  been  a  private  ageni  oi  mi  ssa^e 
beam-  to  the  slJanlards  Jn  ^he  un;  cim- 
i»nli-acv  He  at  once  wrote  a  spiiltin  lei 
Ter  to'  tieneral  Hearborn.  Se.retaiy  of, 
War     asl^liK    for    such    an    expression    as  i 


and  upriKhtnesji  of  Lieutenant  P 
Milt  was  rather  scant  in  praise  or  appro-, 
elation  of  an  expedition  about  which  the  | 
entire  country  was  excited,  and  the  re-  j 
suits  of  which  were  of  acknowledged  im- 
portance. The  letter  said  ihat.  although 
the  expe<litlon  had  "not  been  'inrtertaken 
by  order  of  the  President."  its  ori^aniza- 
tlon  and  purposes  wei-e  known  to  hlra  and 
its  results  would  be  "intci-esting."  This 
was  when    the   wllv   Wilkinson    was   unde*- 

charges,  which  he  subsequently  escaped 
through  lack  of  evidence,  m),  of  course, 
the   Government  was   not  pralsefnl. 

Wilkinson  is  known  uow  to  have  oceii 
in  the  pav  of  the  Spanish  Government 
while  holding  the  office  of  ComraaBder-in- 
Chlef  of  the  American  array.  Shortly  af- 
ter his  acquittal  of  complicity  in  the  Burr 
conspiracy  he  said  laughiugly,  when  askea 
what  Pike's  secret  mission  to  New  Mexico 
had  been,  that  Pike  himself  did  not  know. 
And  that  is  undoubtedly  the  truth— seldom 
as  Wilkinson  ever  fold  it— but  the  full  an- 
swer to  the  question  which  he  turned  aside 
with  this  reply  may  be  found  iu  the  papers 
ji:  r  flis^ovfved   iu   Mexico. 

Pike  attempted  through  several  years  to 
obtain  extra  remuucratiou  for  himself  and 
his  men  for  the  expedition  they  had  made. 
Whether  his  failure  to  do  so  was  because 
of  the  Government's  suspicion  of  AVilkin- 
son's  connection  with  the  trip  or  merely 
because  of  a  penurioiisness  which  has  fre- 
quently been  manifested  la  not  known. 

Zebulou  Montgomery  Pike  was  born  in 
Trenton,  N.  .1..  in  1779.  He  was  the  son 
of  a  Revolutionary  officer,  whose  regiment 
he  entered  at  the  age  of  15.  He  rose  to 
the  rank  of  Brigadier  General  during  the 
war  of  1812,  and  was  killed  by  the  ex- 
plosion of  a  magazine  just  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  Battle  of  York  in  upper  Can- 
ada, In  which  the  Americans  were  vic- 
torious. 


The  Romance   of  Aaron  Burr 


Lewis. 


ita^cMx!^     G^-^      ^1-r^^ 


W 


TH  E 

ROMANCE 

OF 

AARON  BURR. 


.^• 


ALFRED       HENRY      LEVC^IS 

SON-IN-LAW  HAMILTON 


^OW  when  young  Aaron, 
in  the  throbbing  metropo- 
lis of  New  York,  finds 
himself  a  lawyer  and  a 
married  man,  with  an 
olhce  by  the  Bowling 
Green  and  a  house  in 
fashionable  Maiden  Lane, 
he  gives  himself  up  to  a  cool  survey  of  his 
surroundings.  What  he  sees  is  fairly  and 
honestly  set  forth  by  the  good  Doctor  Bellamy 
after  that  dominie  returns  to  Bethlehem  and 
Madam  Bellamy.  The  latter,  like  all  true 
women,  is  curious,  and  gives  the  Doctor  no 
peace  until  he  relates  his  experiences. 

"  The  city,"  observes  the  veracious  Doctor, 
looking  up  from  his  tea  and  muffins,  "  is 
large;  some  say  as  large  as  twenty-seven 
thousand.  I  walked  to  every  part  of  it, 
seeing  all  a  stranger  should.  There  is  much 
opulence  there.  The  rich,  of  whom  there 
are  many,  have  not  only  town  houses,  but 
cool  country  seats  north  of  the  town.  Their 
Broad  Way  is  a  fine,  noble  street — very 
wide  I — fairer  than  any  in  Boston." 

"Doctor!"  expostulates  Madam  Bellamy. 
"Wife,  it  is  fact!  They  have,  too,  a  new 
church,  which  cost  twenty  thousand  pounds. 
At  their  shipyard  I  saw  an  East  Indiaman 
of  eight  hundred  tons — an  immense  vessel! 
The  houses  are  grand,  being  for  the  better 
part  painted — even  the  brick  houses." 
"What!     Paint  a  brick  house?" - 


"It  is  their  ostentation,  wife;  their  sense- 
less parade  of  wealth.  One  sees  the  latter 
everywhere.  I  was  to  breakfast  at  General 
Schuyler's;  it  w^as  an  elaborate  affair.  The}' 
assured  me  their  best  people  were  present; 
Coster,  Livingston,  Bleecker,  Beekman,  Jay 
were  some  of  the  names.  A  more  elegant 
repast  I  never  ate — all  set  as  it  was  with  a 
profusion  of  massive  plate.  There  were  a 
silver  tea  pot,  a  silver  coffee  pot " 

"Solid  silver?" 

"Aye!  The  King's  hall-mark  was  on 
them;  I  looked.  And  finest  linen,  too — 
white  as  snow!  Also  cups  of  gilt;  and  after 
the  toast,  plates  of  peaches  and  a  musk 
melon!  It  was  more  a  feast  than  a  break- 
fast." 

"Why,  it  is  a  tale  of  profligacy!" 

"Their  manners,  however,"  goes  on  the 
good  Doctor,  "  do  not  keep  pace  with  their 
splendid  houses  and  furnishings.  There  is 
no  good  breedmg;  they  ha\-e  no  conversa- 
tion, no  modesty.  They  talk  loud,  fast, 
and  all  together.  It  is  a  mere  theater  of  din 
and  witless  babble.  They  ask  a  question; 
and  then,  before  you  can  answer,  break  in 
with  a  stream  of  inane  chatter.  To  be 
short,  I  met  but  one  real  gentleman " 

"Aaron!" 

"Aye,  wife;  Aaron.  I  can  say  nothing 
good  of  his  religious  side;  since,  for  all  he 
is  the  grandson  of  the  sainted  Jonathan 
Edwards,  he  is  no  better  than  the  heathen 


404 


THE  ROMANCE  OF    AARON  BURR 


JOHN   JAV,    MEMBER    OF    THE     CON  I  INE.N  lAL     ((NuKE^S,    IIRST 

CHIEF  JUSTICE    OF   THE    UNITED    STATES    SUPREME    COURT, 

GOVERNOR   OF   NEW    YORK,    I795-1801 

that  rageth.  But  his  manners! — what  a 
polished  contrast  to  the  boorishness  about 
him!  Against  that  \ulgar  background  he 
shines  out  like  the  sun  at  noon!" 

Young  Aaron,  beginning  to  remember 
his  twenty-seven  years,  objects  to  the  de- 
scriptive "young."  He  has  ever  scorned 
it,  as  though  it  were  some  epithet  of  infamv. 
Now  he  takes  open  stand  against  it. 

"I  am  not  so  young,"  says  he,  to  one  who 
mentions  him  as  in  the  morning  of  his  years; 
"I  am  not  so  young  but  that  I  have  com- 
manded a  brigade,  sir,  on  a  field  of  stricken 
battle.  ]\ry  rank  was  that  of  colonel!  You 
will  oblige  me  by  remembering  the  title." 

In  view  of  the  gentleman's  tartness,  it 
will  be  as  well  jierhaps  hereafter  to  drop  the 
"young";  for  no  one  likes  to  give  offense. 
Besides,  our  tart  gentleman  is  married,  and 
a  father.  Still,  "colonel"  is  but  a  word  of 
pewter  when  no  war  is  on.  "  Aaron ' '  should 
do  better;  and  escape  his  challenge,  too, 
that  irritating  "young"  being  dropped. 

As  Aaron  runs  his  glance  along  the  front 
of  the  town's  affairs,  he  notes  that  in  com- 
merce, fashion,  politics,  and,  one  had  almost 
said,  religion,  the  situation  is  dominated  of 
a  quartette  of  septs.  There  are  the  Living- 
stons—numerous, rich.  There  are  the  Clin- 
tons, of  whom  Governor  Clinton  is  chief. 
There  are  the  Jays,  led  liy  the  Honorable 
John  of  that  ilk.  Most  and  greatest,  there 
are  the  Schuylers,  in  (lie  van  of  which  tribe 


towers  the  sour,  self-seeking,  self-sufficient 
General  Schuyler.  Aaron,  in  the  gossip  of 
the  coffee  houses,  hears  much  of  General 
Schuyler.  Also,  he  hears  more  of  that  austere 
jjerson's  son-in-law,  the  brilliant  Alexander 
Hamilton. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  make  his  acquaintance," 
thinks  Aaron,  when  he  is  told  of  the  latter. 
"I  met  him  after  the  battle  of  Long  Island, 
when  in  his  pale  eagerness  to  escape  the 
English  he  had  left  baggage  and  guns  behind. 
Yes;  I  shall  indeed  be  glad  to  see  him. 
That  such  as  he  can  come  to  eminence  in  the 
town  possesses  its  encouraging  side."  There 
is  a  sneer  on  Aaron's  face,  as" these  thoughts 
run  in  his  mind;  those  praises  of  son-in-law 
Hamilton  have  vaguely  angered  his  self-love. 

Aaron's  opportunity  to  meet,  and  make 
the  young  ex-artilleryman's  acquaintance, 
is  not  long  in  coming.  The  Tories,  whom 
the  war  stripped  of  their  property  and  civil 
rights,  are  praying  for  relief.  A  meeting 
of  the  town's  notables  has  been  called;  the 
local  great  ones  are  to  come  together  in  the 
Long  Room  of  the  Fraunces  Tavern.  Being 
together,  they  will  consider  how  far  a  decen't 
Americanism  may  unbend  toward  a  Tory 
relief. 

Aaron  arrives  early,  for  the  Fraunces  Long 
Room  is  his  favorite  lounge.  The  big  apart" 
ment  has  witnessed  no  changes  since  a  day 
when  poor  Peggy  Moncrieffe,  as  the  modern 
Ariadne,  wept  on  her  near-by  Naxos,  while 


RUFUS  KING,  STATESMAN    AND    DIHl.OMAT,  ONE  OK  NKW  YORK'S 
TWO   SENATORS   TO   THB    FIRST   NATIONAL    CONGRESS 


ALFRHl)    HHNRY    LEWIS 


405 


a  forgetful  Theseus,  in  that  same  Long 
Room,  tasted  his  wine  unmoved.  Aaron  is 
at  a  corner  table  with  Colonel  Troup,  when 
son-in-law  Hamilton  arri\-es. 

"That  is  he,"  says  Colonel  Troup,  for 
they  have  been  talking  of  the  gentleman. 

Already  nosing  a  rival,  Aaron  regards  the 
newcomer  with  a  curious  black  narrowness 
which  has  little  of  liking  in  it.  Son  in-law 
Hamilton  is  a  short,  shm,  dapper  figure  of  a 
man,  as  short  and  slim  as  is  Aaron  himself. 
His  hair  is  clubbed  into  an  elaborate  q.ie.ie 
and  profuseh-  powdered.  He  wears  a  blue 
coat  with  bright  buttons,  a  white  vest,  a 
forest  of  rufifles,  black  velvet  smalls,  white 
silk  stockings,  and  conventional  buckled 
shoes. 

It  is  not  his  clothes,  but  his  countenance 
to  which  Aaron  addresses  his  most  searching 
glances.  The  forehead  is  good  and  full, 
and  rife  of  suggestion.  The  eyes  are  (juick, 
In-ight,  seltish,  unreUable,  prone  to  look 
one  wav  while  the  plausible  tongue  talks 
another]  As  for  the  face  generally-  fresh, 
full,  sensual,  brisk— it  is  the  face  of  a  flat- 
terer and  a  poUtician,  the  face  of  one  who 
will  seek  his  ends  by  nearest  methods,  and 
never  mind  if  they  be  muddy.  Also,  there 
is  much  that  is  lurking  and  secret  about  the 
expression  which  recalls  the  slanderer  and 
back-biter,  who  will  be  ever  ready  to  ser\e 
himself  by  lies  whispered  in  the  dark. 


GENERAL    ALEXANDER    MACOMB,    TO    WHOM    GOVERNOR    CLIN- 
TON   SOLD    3,600,000  ACRES   OF  THE    PUBLIC    LANDS    FOR    KIGHT 
PENCE    AN    ACRE.       FROM    ORIGINAL   PORTRAIT    LY    T.    SULLY 


KOUEKT     K.     LIVINGSION,     A     MEMIJEK     OK    THE    COMTNE.NTAL 
CONGRESS,  MINISTER  TO    FRANCE,  180I-1805.       HE  NEGOTIATED 
THE    LOUISIANA    PURCHASE,  AND  WAS   ASSOCIATED    WITH    FUL- 
TON   IN    FURTHERING   STEAMBOAT   NAVIGATION 

Son-in-law  Hamilton  does  not  see  Aaron 
and  Colonel  Troup,  and  goes  straight  to  a 
group  the  long  length  of  the  room  away. 
'Faking  a  seat,  he  at  once  leads  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  circle  he  has  joined,  speaking  in  a 
loud,  confldent  tone,  with  the  manner  of  one 
who  regards  his  own  position  as  impregnable, 
and  his  word  decisi\e  of  whate\er  question 
is  discussed. 

The  pomjjous  self-consequence  of  son-in- 
law  Hamilton  arouses  the  dander  of  Aaron. 
Nor  is  the  latter's  wrath  the  less,  when  he 
discovers  that  General  Schuyler's  self- 
satisfied  voung  relative  thinks  the  suppliant 
Tories  should  be  listened  to,  as  folk  over- 
harshly  dealt  with. 

As  Aaron  considers  son-in-law  Hamilton, 
and  decides  unfavorably  concerning  that 
young  gentleman's  bumptiousness  and  pert 
forwardness,  tlie  comixiny  is  rapped  to  (jrder 
by  General  Schuyler  himself.  Lean,  arro- 
gant, supercilious,  the  General  explains 
that  lie  has  been  asked  to  jjreside.  Being 
established  in  the  chair,  he  announces  in  a 
rasping,  dictatorial  voice  the  liberal  objects 
of  the  coming  together.  He  submits  that 
the  Tories  have  been  unjustly  treated.  It 
was,  he  says,  but  natural  they  should  adhere 
to  King  George.  The  war  being  now  over 
and  King  George  beaten,  he  does  not  believe 
it  the  part  of  either  a  Christian  or  a  patriot 


4o6 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AARON  BURR 


to  hold  hatred^against  them.  These  same 
Tories  are  still  Americans.  Their  names 
are  among  the  highest  in  the  city.  Before 
the  Revolution,  they  were  one  and  all  of 
a  first  respectability,  many  with  pews  in 
Trinity.  Now  when  freedom  has  won  its 
battle,  he  feels  that  the  victors  should  let 


word  of  the  rusty  old  General  is  equal  to 
marring  or  furthering  the  fortunes  of  every 
soul  in  the  room. 

The  pause  is  at  last  broken  by  Aaron. 
Self-possessed,  steady,  his  remarks  are  brief 
but  pointed.  He  combats  at  every  corner 
wliat  the  rusty  General  has  been  pleased  to 


AAKON     BURK 
Riproduccd  from  eiigj-aving  of  portrait  by  J.   Vandyke 


bygones  be  bygones,  and  restore  the  Tories, 
in  both  property  and  station,  to  a  j)hK-e  which 
they  occupied  before  that  pregnant  Philadel- 
phia Fourth  of  July  in  1776. 

All  this,  and  more  to  similar  effect,  the 
austere  Schuyler  rasps  forth.  When  he 
closes,  a  profound  silence  succeeds;  for 
there  is  no  one  who  does  not  know  the 
Schuyler  power,  or  believe  that  the  rasping 


advance.  The  Tories  were  traitors.  They 
were  worse  than  the  English.  It  was  they 
who  set  the  Indians  on  our  borders  to  torch 
and  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife.  They 
have  been  most  liberally,  most  mercifully 
dealt  with,  when  they  are  permitted  to  go 
unhanged.  As  for  restoring  their  forfeited 
estates,  or  permitting  them  any  civil  share 
in  a  government  which  they  did  their  best 


ALFRHl)    HHNRY    LEWIS 


407 


to  strangle  in  the  cradle,  the  thought  is  pre- 
posterous. They  may  liave  been  "respect- 
able" as  General  Schuyler  states;  if  so, 
the  respectability  was  spurious — a  mere 
hypocritical  cover  for  souls  reeking  of  vile- 
ness.  They  may  have  had  pews  in  Trinity. 
There  are  ones  who,  wanting  pews  in  Trinitx-, 


than  son-in-law  Hamilton  is  upon  him  ver- 
bally. \\'hile  tho.se  ajjproving  ones  are 
admiringly  buzzing,  the  latter  begins  to  talk. 
His  tones  are  high  and  ])atronizing,  his 
manner  condescending.  He  speaks  to  Aaron 
direct,  and  not  to  the  audience.  He  will  do 
his  best,  he  explains,  to  be  tolerant,  for  he 


ALEXANDER     HAMILTON 
A/ade  from  an  etching  by  Jacques  Reich 


still  hope  to  make  their  worldly  foothold 
good,  and  save  their  souls  at  last. 

As  Aaron  takes  his  seat  by  Colonel  Troup, 
a  murmur  of  guarded  agreement  runs  through 
the  company.  Many  are  the  looks  of  sur- 
prised admiration  cast  in  his  young  direction. 
Truly,  the  new-comer  has  made  a  stir. 

Not  that  his  stir-making  is  to  go  unop- 
posed.    No   sooner  is   Aaron   in   his   chair. 


has  heard  that  Aaron  is  new  to  the  town. 
None  the  less,  he  must  ask  that  daring  person 
to  bear  his  newness  more  in  mind.  He 
himself,  he  says,  cannot  escape  the  feeHng 
that  one  who  is  no  better  than  a  stranger,- 
an  interloper,  might  with  a  nice  propriety 
remain  silent  on  occasions  such  as  this. 
Son-in-law  Hamilton  ends  by  declaring  that 
the  position  taken  by  Aaron,  on  this  subject 


4o8 


THE  ROMAN  CH  OF  AARON  BURR 


of  Tories  and  vvluit  shall  be  their  rights,  is 
unAmcrican.  He,  himself,  has  fought  for 
the  Revolution;  hut,  now  it  is  ended,  he 
holds  that  gentlemen  of  honor  and  liberality 
will  not  be  guided  by  the  ugly  clamor  of 
partisans,  who  would  make  the  unending 
punishment  of  Tories  a  virtue,  and  call  it 
j)atriotism.  He  fears  that  Aaron  misunder- 
stands the  sentiments  of  those  among  whom 
he  has  j)itched  his  tent,  and  congratulates 
him  on  a  youth  that  offers  both  an  excuse 
for  the  rashness  of  his  expressions  and  the 
hope  that  he  may  live  to  gain  a  better  wisdom. 
Son-in-law  Hamilton  does  himself  proud, 
and  the  rusty  old  General  arches  his  crest, 
to  find  himself  so  well  defended. 

The  rusty  General  exhibits  both  surprise 
and  anger,  when  the  rebuked  Aaron  again 


claims.  1  myself  was  a  soldier,  and  while 
serving  as  such  was  so  fortunate  as  to  meet 
our  frienc^.  He  does  not  remember  the 
meeting.  Nor  do  I  blame  him;  for  it  was 
upon  a  day  when  he  had  forgotten  his  bag- 
gage, forgotten  one  of  his  guns,  forgotten 
everything  in  truth  .save  the  English  behind 
him;  and  I  should  be  much  too  vain  if  I 
expected  that,  under  such  forgetful  circum- 
stances, he  would  remember  me.  As  to  my 
newness  in  the  town,  and  that  crippled 
Americanism  wherewith  he  charges  me,  I 
have  little  to  say.  I  got  no  one's  consent  to 
come  to  New  York;  I  shall  ask  no  one's 
permission  to  stay.  Doubtless  I  would  have 
been  more  within  a  fashion,  had  I  gone  with 
both  questions  to  the  gentleman,  or  to  his 
celebrated  father-in-law  who  presides  here 


(i  E  N  K  K  A  L      G  K  O  N  <;  E     CLINTON 

Stalcsman  and  soldier :   Governor  of  the  State  of  New   York^   '777-1795  <^*td  iSoi-iS 


signifies  a  desire  to  be  heard.  This  time, 
Aaron,  following  that  orator's  examjjle, 
talks  not  to  the  audience  but  to  son-in-law 
Hamilton  himself. 

"Our  friend,"  says  Aaron,  "reminds  me 
that  I  am  young  in  years;  and  I  think  this 
the  more  generous  on  his  i)art,  since  I  have 
seen  quite  as  many  years  as  has  he  himself. 
He  calls  attention  to  the  battle-battered 
share  he  took  in  securing  the  Iil)erties  of  this 
country;  and,  while  I  believe  him  better 
qualified  to  win  laurels  as  a  son-in-law  than 
as  a  soldier,  I  concede   him   the  crc^dit   he 


to-day.  These  errors,  however,  I  must 
abide  by.  Also,  I  shall  content  myself  with 
an  Americanism  which,  though  it  possess 
none  of  those  sunburned.  West  Indian  ad- 
vantages so  strikingly  illustrated  in  the 
gentleman,  may  at  least  remember  that  it 
is  two  hundred  years  old." 

Having  returned  upon  the  self-sutVicient 
head  of  son-in-law  Hamilton,  those  courtesies 
which  the  latter  lavished  uj)on  him,  Aaron 
proceeds  to  say  again,  but  with  more  vigori>us 
emphasis,  what  anti-Tory  sentiments  he  has 
earlier  ex])rcssed.     \\'hen  he  ceases  s])caking 


ALFRED    HHNKY    L H W I S 


409 


there  is  no  applause,  nothing  save  a  dead 
stillness;  for  all  who  have  heard  feel  that  a 
feud  has  been  born,  a  Burr-Schuylcr-Hamil- 
ton  feud,  and  are  prudently  inclined  to  await 
its  development  before  pronouncing  for 
either  side.  The  feeling,  however,  would 
seem  to  follow  the  lead  of  Aaron;  for  a  re- 
solution, smelling  of  leniency  toward  Tories, 
is  laid  upon  the  table. 


THAT  SEAT  IN   THE   SENATE 

WHILE  Aaron,  frostily  contemptuous, 
but  with  manners  as  superfine  as  his 
ruffles,  is  saying  those  knife-thrust 
things  of  son-in-law  Hamilton,   that   voung 


desired.  He  makes  no  effort  at  retort,  but 
stomachs  in  silence  those  words  of  Aaron 
which  burn  his  soul  like  coals  of  fire.  What 
is  strange,  too,  for  all  their  burning  he  vaguely 
finds  in  them  some  chilling  touch  as  of  death. 
He  realizes,  as  much  from  the  grim  fineness 
of  Aaron's  manner  as  from  his  raw,  unguarded 
words,  that  Aaron  is  ready  to  carry  discussion 
to  the  cold  verge  of  the  grave. 

Son-in-law  Hamilton's  nature  lacks  in 
that  bitter  drop,  so  present  in  Aaron's,  which 
teaches  folk  to  die  but  never  yield.  Where- 
fore, in  his  heart  he  now  shrinks  back,  afraid 
to  go  forward  with  a  situation  grown  peril- 
ous, albeit  he  himself  provoked  it.  Saving 
his  credit  with  ones  who  look,  if  they  do  not 
speak,  their  wonder  at  his  mute  tameness, 
he  says  he  will  talk  with    General  Schuyler 


M  A  J  O  K  -  (;  F.  N  E  K  A  I.     1'  H  I  I.  I  r     S  C  11  i:  V  1.  E  R 

A  soldier  and  politician,  General  Schuyler  -ivas  one  0/  New   York's  two  senators  to  the  First  Congress 


gentleman's  face  is  a  study  in  black  an.d  red. 
His  expression  is  a  composite  of  rage  colored 
of  fear.  The  defiance  of  Aaron  is  so  full, 
so  frank,  that  it  seems  studied.  Son-in-law 
Hamilton  is  not  sure  of  its  purpose,  or  what 
intrigue  it  may  hide.  Deeply  impressed  as 
to  his  own  importance,  the  thought  takes  hold 
on  him  that  Aaron's  attack  is  parcel  of  some 
deliberate  design  by  folk  who  either  hate  him 
or  envy  him,  or  both,  to  lure  him  to  the  duel- 
ling ground  and  kill  him  out  of  the  way.  He 
draws  a  long  breath  at  this,  and  sweats  a 
little;    for  life  is  good  and  death  not  at  all 


concerning  what  course  he  shall  pursue. 
Saying  which  he  gets  away  from  the  Fraunces 
Long  Room  somewhat  abruptly,  feathers 
measurably  subdued.  Aaron  lingers  but  a 
moment  after  son-in-law  Hamilton  departs, 
and  then  goes  his  polished,  taciturn  way. 

The  incident  is  a  nine-days'  food  for 
gossip;  wagers  are  made  of  a  coming  bloody 
encounter  between  Aaron  and  son-in-law 
Hamilton.  Those  lose  who  accept  the 
sanguinary  side;  the  two  meet,  but  the 
collision  is  politely  peaceful,  even  while  no 
good  friendliness  but  only  a  wider  separation 


\ 


r      HOME    OK    AAKDN    BURR.      IT    WAS    WASHINGTON'S    HEADQl' AKTERS    FOR    A    SHORT   TIME    IN    1776.      BORDkR- 
ING    THE    HUDSON,    THE    ESTATE    COMPRISED    GROUND    NOW    TRAVERSED    BY    SPRING    STREET 


is  the  upcome.  The  meeting  is  the  work  of 
son-in-law  Hamilton,  who  is  presented  by 
Colonel  Troup. 

"  We  should  know  each  other  better, 
Colonel  Burr,"  he  observes. 

Son-in-law  Hamilton  is  the  smiling  picture 
of  an  affability  that  of  itself  is  a  kind  of 
flattery.  Aaron  bows,  while  those  affable 
rays  glance  from  his  chill  exterior  as  from 
an  ice  field. 

"  Doubtless  we  shall,"  says  he. 

Son-in-law  Hamilton  gets  presently  down 
to  the  serious  purpose  of  his  coming.  "  General 
Schuyler,"  he  says  gravely,  for  he  ever  speaks 
of  his  father-in-law  as  though  he  were  a 
demigod,  "  General  Schuyler  would  like  to 
meet  you,  and  bids  me  ask  vou  to  come  to 
him." 

Colonel  Troup  is  in  high  excitement.  No 
such  honor  has  been  tendered  one  of  Aaron's 
youth  within  his  memory.  Being  whollv 
the  courtier,  he  looks  to  see  the  honored  one 
eagerly  headlong  to  go  to  General  Schuyler 
— that  Jove  who  controls  not  alone  the  local 
thunderbolts  but  the  local  laurels.  He  is 
shocked  to  his  courtier-like  core,  when  Aaron 
maintains  his  cold  reserve. 

"Pardon  me,  sir!"  says  Aaron.  "Say 
to  General  Schuyler  that  his  request  is  im- 
possible. I  never  call  on  gentlemen  at  their 
suggestion  and  on  their  affairs.  When  I 
have  cause  of  my  own  to  go  to  General 
Schuyler,  I  shall  go.     Until   then,   if  there 


be  reason  for  our  meeting,  he  must  come  to 
me." 

"You  forget  General  Schuyler's  age!" 
returns  sop-in-law  Hamilton.  There  is  a 
ring  of  threat  in  the  tones. 

"Sir,"  responds  Aaron,  stiffly,  "I  forget 
nothing.  There  is  an  age-cant  which  I  will 
not  tolerate.  I  desire  to  be  understood  as 
saying,  sir,  and  you  may  repeat  my  words'to 
whomsoever  possesses  an  interest,  that  I  shall 
not  in  my  own  conduct  consent  to  a  social 
doctrine  which  would  invest  folk,  because 
they  have  lived  sixty  years,  with  a  franchise 
to  patronize  or,  if  they  choose,  insult  gentle- 
men whose  years,  we  will  suppose,  are  less 
than  thirty." 

"I  am  sorry  you  take  this  view,"  returns 
son-in-law  Hamilton,  copying  Aaron's  stiff- 
ness. "  You  will  not,  I  fear,  find  many  to 
support  you  in  it." 

"  I  am  not  looking  for  support,  sir,"  ob- 
serves Aaron,  jjointing  the  remark  with  one 
of  those  black,  ophidian  stares.  "  Also,  I 
do  you  the  courtesy  to  assume  that  you  in- 
tend no  criticism  of  myself  by  your  remark." 

There  is  a  rising  inflection  as  though  a 
question  is  put.  Son-in-law  Hamilton  so  far 
submits  to  the  inflection  as  to  explain.  He 
intends  only  to  say  that  General  Schuyler's 
place  in  the  community  is  of  such  high  and 
honorable  sort,  as  to  make  his  request  to  call 
upon  him  a  mark  of  favor.  As  to  criticism: 
— Why,  then,  he  criticized  no  gentleman. 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


411 


There  is  much  profound  bowing,  and  the 
meeting  ends,  Colonel  Troup,  a  trille  aghast, 
retiring  with  son-in-law  Hamilton,  whose 
arm  he  takes. 

"  There  could  be  no  agreement  with  that 
young  man,"  mutters  Aaron,  looking  after 
the  retreating  Hamilton,  "save  on  a  basis 
of  submission  to  his  leadership.  I'll  be  first, 
or  nothing." 

Aaron  settles  himself  industriously  to  the 
practise  of  law.  In  the  courts,  as  in  every- 
thing else,  he  is  merciless.  Lucid,  inde- 
fatigable, convincing,  he  asks  no  quarter, 
gives  none.  His  business  expands;  clients 
crowd  about  him;  prosperity  descends  in  a 
shower  of  gold. 

Often  he  runs  counter  to  son-in-law  Hamil- 
ton— himself  actively  in  the  law — before 
judge  and  jury.  When  they  are  thus  op- 
posed, each  is  the  other's  match  for  a  care- 
ful but  wintry  courtesy.  For  all  his  courtesy, 
however,  Aaron  seldom  fails  to  defeat  son- 
in-law  Hamilton  in  whatever  litigation  they 
are  about.  His  vminterrupted  victories  over 
that  young  gentleman  are  an  added  reason 
for  the  latter's  jealous  hatred.  He  and  his 
rusty  father-in-law  become  doubly  Aaron's 
foes,  and  grasp  at  every  chance  to  do  him 
harm. 

And  yet,  that  antagonism  has  its  compen- 
sations. It  brings  Aaron  into  favor  with 
Governor  Clinton;  it  finds  him  allies  among 
the  Livingstons.  The  latter  powerful  family 
invite  him  into  their  politics.  He  thanks 
them,  but  declines.  He  is  for  the  law; 
hungry  to  make  money,  he  sees  no  profit 
but  only  loss  in  politics. 

In  his  gold-getting,  Aaron  is  marvelously 
successful;  and,  as  he  rolls  up  riches,  he 
buys  land.  Thus  one  proud  day  he  becomes 
master    of    Richmond    Hill,    with    its    lawn 


sweeping  down  to  the  Hudson — Richmond 
Hill,  where  he  played  slave  of  the  quill  to 
Washington,  and  suffered  in  his  vanity  from 
the  big  General's  loftily  abstracted  pose. 
Master  of  a  mansion,  he  fills  his  libraries 
w'ith  books  and  his  cellars  with  wine.  Thus 
he  is  never  without  good  company,  reading 
the  one  or  sipping  the  other.  The  faded 
Theodosia  presides  over  his  house;  and, 
because  of  her  years  or  his  lack  of  them,  her 
manner  toward  him  trenches  upon  the 
maternal. 

The  household  is  a  hive  of  happiness. 
Aaron,  who  takes  the  j^edagogue  instinct 
from  sire  and  grandsire,  puts  in  his  leisure 
drilling  the  small  Prevost  boys  in  their  les- 
sons. He  will  have  them  talking  Latin  and 
reading  Greek  like  little  priests,  before  he  is 
done  with  them.  As  for  baby  Theodosia, 
she  reigns  the  chubby  queen  of  all  their 
hearts;  it  is  to  her  credit,  not  theirs,  that  she 
isn't  hopelessly  spoiled. 

In  his  wine  and  his  reading,  Aaron's  tastes 
take  opposite  directions.  The  books  he 
likes  are  heavy,  while  his  best-liked  wines 
are  light.  He  reads  Jeremy  Bentham;  also 
he  finds  comfort  in  William  Godwin  and 
Mary  WoUstonecraft.  He  adorns  his  study 
with  a  portrait  of  the  latter  lady;  which  feat 
in  decoration  furnishes  the  prudish  a  pang. 

These  book-radicalisms  and  his  weaknesses 
for  alarming  doctrines,  social  and  political, 
do  not  help  Aaron's  standing  with  respectable 
hypocrites,  of  whom  there  are  vast  numbers, 
and  who  for  its  fashion  and  commerce  and 
politics  give  the  town  a  tone.  These  whited 
sepulchers  of  society  purse  discreet  yet  con- 
demnatory lips  when  Aaron's  name  is  men- 
tioned, and  speak  of  him  as  favoring  "  Ben- 
thamism" and  "Godwinism."  Our  dullard 
pharisee  folk  know  no  more  of  ''  Bentham- 


THE    FIRST   PRESIDENTtAl.   MANSION:       IT   WAS    SITUATED    AT   NO.   I    CHERRY 

STREET,    NEW     YORK,    AND    WAS     OCCUPIED     BY    WASHINGTON     DURING    THE 

FIRST   SESSION   OF   THE    FIRST    CONGRESS 


4i: 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AARON  BURR 


ism"  or  "  Godwinism "  in  their  derinitiojis, 
than  of  plant  life  in  the  planet  Mars;  Init 
their  manner  is  the  manner  of  ones  wlio 
speak  of  crimes  tenfold  worse  than  mur- 
der. 

Aaron  pays  no  heed;  neither  does  he  fret 
over  the  innuendoes  of  those  hypocritical 
ones.  He  was  born  full  of  contempt  for 
men's  opinions,  and  has  fostered  and  flat- 
tered it  into  a  kind  of  cold  passion.  Occupied 
with  the  loved  ones  at  Richmond  Hill,  careless 
to  the  point  of  blind  and  deaf  concerning 
all  outside,  he  seeks  only  to  win  lawsuits 
and  pile  up  gold.  And  never  once  does  his 
glance  rove  officeward. 

This  anti-oflfice  coolness  is  all  on  Aaron's 
side.  He  does  not  pursue  office;  but  now 
and  again  office  pursues  him.  Twice  he 
goes  to  the  Legislature;  next  Governor 
Clinton  asks  him  to  become  attorney-general. 
As  attorney-general  he  makes  one  of  a 
commission,  Governor  Clinton  at  its  head, 
which  sells  five  and  a  half  million  acres  of 
the  public  land  for  $1,030,000.  The  highest 
price  received  is  three  shillings  an  acre; 
the  purchasers  number  six.  The  big  sale  is 
to  Alexander  Macomb,  who  is  given  a  deed 
for  three  million  six  hundred  thousand  acres 
at  eight  pence  an  acre.  The  public  howls 
over  these  surprising  transactions  in  real  es- 
tate. The  popular  anger,  however,  is  leveled 
at  Governor  Clinton,  he  being  a  sort  of 
Caesar.  Aaron,  who  dwells  more  in  the  back- 
ground, escapes  unscathed. 

While  these  several  matters  go  forward, 
the  nation  adopts  a  constitution.  Then  it 
elects  Washington,  President,  and  sets  up 
government-shop  in  New  York.  Aaron's 
part  in  these  mighty  doings  is  the  quiet  })arl. 
He  does  not  think  much  of  the  Constitution, 
but. accepts  it;  he  thinks  less  of  Washington, 
but  accepts  him,  too.  It  is  within  the  rim 
of  the  possible  that  son-in-law  Hamilton, 
sitting  in  Washington's  Cabinet  as  Secretary 
.of  the  Treasury,  hely)s  the  Administration 
to  a  lowest  place  in  Aaron's  esteem;  for  he 
is  a  priceless  hater,  and  that  feud  is  in  no 
degree  relaxed. 

When  the  national  GoNcrnnient  is  born, 
the  rusty  General  Schuyler  and  Kufus  King 
are  chosen  senators  ior  New  York.  The  rusty 
old  General,  in  the  little  lottery  which  ensues, 
draws  the  short  term.  This  in  no  wise 
weighs  upon  him.  What  difference  should 
it  make?  At  the  close  of  that  short  term, 
he  will  be  reelected  for  a  full  term  of  si.\ 
years.     To  assume  otherwise  would  be  i)rc- 


posterous,  and  the  rusty  old  General  feels 
no  such  short  term  uneasiness. 

Washington  has  two  weaknesses:  he  loves 
flattery,  and  is  a  bad  judge  of  men.  Son-in- 
law  Hamilton,  because  he  flatters  best,  sits 
highest  in  the  Washington  esteem.  He  is  the 
right  arm  of  the  big  Virginian's  Administra- 
tion, and  is  quite  as  confident  as  the  rusty 
(ieneral  Schuyler  of  that  gentleman's  re- 
election. Indeed,  if  he  could  be  prevailed 
upon  to  answer  cyueries  so  foolish,  he  would 
say  that  of  all  sure  future  things  the  re- 
election of  the  rusty  General  is  surest.  Not 
a  cloud  of  doubt  is  seen  in  the  skies  of  either. 

And  yet  there  is  one  who,  from  his  place 
as  attorney-general,  is  watching  that  Senate 
seat  as  a  tiger  watches  its  prey.  Noiselessly, 
yet  none  the  less  powerfully,  Aaron  gathers 
himself  for  the  spring.  Both  his  pride  and 
his  hate  are  involved  in  what  he  is  about. 
To  be  a  senator  is  to  wear  a  proudest  title 
in  the  land.  In  this  instance  to  be  a  senator 
means  a  staggering  blow  to  that  Schuyler- 
Hamilton  tribe  whose  foe  he  is.  Also,  it 
opens  a  pathw^ay  to  the  injury  of  V\'ashington. 
He  would  be  even  for  what  long-ago  war- 
slights  the  big  General  put  upon  him,  slights 
which  he  neither  forgets  nor  forgives. 
Aaron  smiles  a  pale,  thin-lipped  smile  as  he 
pictures  with  the  eye  of  rancorous  imagina- 
tion the  look  which  will  spread  across  the 
face  of  Washington,  when  he  hears  of  the 
rusty  Schuyler's  overthrow  and  him  who 
brought  that  overthrow  about.  The  smile 
is  quick  to  die,  however,  for  he  who  would 
strip  his  toga  from  the  rusty  Schuyler  must 
not  sit  down  to  dreams  and  castle-building. 

Aaron  goes  silently  >et  sedulously  about 
his  plans.  In  their  execution  he  foresees 
tliat  many  will  be  hurt;  the  stubborn  outlook 
does  not  daunt  him.  One  cannot  make 
omelettes  without  breaking  eggs. 

In  his  coming  war  with  the  rusty  Schuyler, 
Aaron  feels  the  need  of  two  things;  he  must 
have  an  issue,  and  he  must  have  allies.  It 
is  of  vital  importance  to  bring  Governor 
Clinton  to  the  shoulder  of  his  ambitions. 
Tie  looks  that  potentate  over  with  a  calculat- 
ing c\c.  making  a  mental  catalogue  of  his 
approachable  points. 

i'he  old  Governor  is  of  Irish  blood  and 
\ Irish  temper.  His  ancestors  were  not  the 
([uietest  folk  in  Galway.  Being  of  gun- 
])()wder  stock,  he  dearly  loves  a  foe,  and 
will  no  more  forget  a  feud  than  a  favor. 
Aaron  shows  the  old  Governor  that,  in  his 
own    laic    election,    the    Schuvler-Hamilton 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


413 


interest  was  slyly  behind  his  opponent, 
Judge  Yates,  and  nearly  brought  home 
victory  for  the  latter. 

"You  owe  General  Schuyler,"  says  Aaron, 
"no  help  at  this  pinch.  Still  less  are  you  in 
debt  to  Hamilton.  It  was  the  latter  that 
put  Yates  in  the  field." 

"And  yet,"  protests  the  old  Governor 
— inclined  to  anger  but  not  quite  convinced — 
"and  yet  I  saw  no  signs  of  either  Schuyler 
or  his  son-in-law  in  the  business." 

"  Sir,  that  is  their  duplicity.  One  so  open 
as  yourself  would  be  the  last  to  discover 
such  intrigues.  The  young  fox  Hamilton 
managed  the  affair;  in  doing  so,  he  moved 
only  in  the  dark,  walked  in  all  the  running 
water  he  could  find." 

What  Aaron  says  is  true;  in  the  finish  he 
gives  proof  to  the  old  Governor.  At  that  the 
latter's  Irish  blood  begins  to  gather  heat. 

"It  is  as  you  tell  me!"  he  cries  at  last; 
"I  can  see  it  now!  That  West  Indian 
renegate  Hamilton  was  the  bug  under  the 
Yates  chip!" 

"And  you  must  not  forget,  sir,  that  for 
every  scheme  of  politics,  '  Schuyler'  and 
'Hamilton'  are  interchangeable." 

"You  are  right!  When  one  pulls  the 
other  pushes.  They  are  my  enemies,  and  I 
shall  not  be  less  than  theirs." 

The  Governor  asks  Aaron  what  candidate 
they  shall  pitch  upon  to  pit  against  the  rusty 
Schuyler.  Aaron  has  thus  far  said  nothing 
of  himself  in  any  toga  connection,  fearing 
the  old  Governor  may  regard  his  thirty-six 
years  as  lacking  a  proper  gravity.  Being 
asked  to  suggest  a  name,  he  waxes  discreet. 
He  believes,  he  says,  that  the  Livingstons 
can  be  prevailed  upon  to  come  out  against 
the  rusty  Schuyler,  if  properly  approached. 
Such  approach  can  be  more  gracefully  made 
if  no  name  is  pitched  upon. 

"From  your  place,  sir,  as  governor," 
observes  the  skillful  Aaron,  "you  could 
not  condescend  to  go  in  person  to  the  Liv- 
ingstons. My  position,  however,  is  not  so 
high  nor  my  years  so  many  as  yours;  I  need 
not  scruple  to  take  up  the  matter  with  them. 
As  to  a  candidate,  I  can  go  to  them  more 
easily  if  we  leave  the  question  open.  I  could 
tell  the  Livingstons  that  you  would  like  a 
suggestion  from  them  on  that  point.  It 
would  flatter  their  vanity." 

The  old  Governor  is  pleased  to  regard  with 
favor  the  reasoning  of  Aaron.  He  remarks, 
too,  that  with  him  the  candidate  is  not  im- 
portant.    The  main  thought  is  to  defeat  the 


rusty  Schuyler,  who,  with  son-in-law  Hamil- 
ton, aforetime  played  the  hypocrite,  and 
pulled  treacherous  wires  against  him  in 
the  hope  of  compassing  his  defeat.  He  de- 
clares himself  fjuite  satisfied  to  let  the  Liv- 
ingstons select  what  fortunate  one  is  to  be 
the  Senate  successor  of  the  rusty  Schuyler. 
He  urges  Aaron  to  wait  on  the  Livingstons 
without  delay,  and  discover  their  feelings. 

Aaron  confers  with  the  Livingstons,  and 
shows  them  many  things.  Mostly  he  shows 
them  that,  should  he  be  cho.sen  senator,  it 
will  necessitate  his  resignation  as  attorney- 
general.  Also,  he  makes  it  appear  that,  if 
the  old  Governor  be  properly  approached, 
he  will  name  one  Morgan  Lewis  to  fill  the 
vacancy  thus  arranged.  The  Livingston 
eye  glistens;  the  mother  of  Morgan  Lewis 
is  a  Livingston,  and  the  oflice  of  attorney- 
general  will  match  his  fortunes  nicely. 
Besides,  there  are  several  ways  wherein  an 
attorney-general  might  be  of  much  Living- 
ston use.  No;  the  Livingstons  do  not  say 
these  things.  They  say  instead  that  none 
is  more  nobly  equipped  for  the  role  of  senator 
than  Aaron.  Finally,  it  is  the  Livingstons 
who  go  back  to  the  old  Governor.  Nor  do 
they  find  it  difficult  to  convince  him  that 
Aaron  is  the  one  surest  of  defeating  the  rusty 
Schuyler. 

"  Colonel  Burr,"  say  the  Livingstons, 
"has  no  record,  which  is  another  way  of 
saying  that  he  has  no  enemies.  We  deem 
this  most  important.  It  will  lessen  the 
effort  required  to  bring  about  him  a  majority 
of  the  Legislature." 

The  old  Governor,  as  Aaron  feared,  is 
inchned  to  shy  at  the  not-too-many  years 
of  our  ambitious  one.  After  a  bit,  however, 
Aaron,  as  a  notion,  begins  to  grow  upon  him. 

"He  has  brains,  sir,"  observes  the  old 
Governor,  thoughtfully;  "he  has  brains; 
and  that  is  of  more  consequence  than  mere 
years.  He  has  double  the  intelligence  of 
Schuyler,  although  he  may  not  count  half 
his  age.     I  call  that  to  his  credit,  sir." 

The  chief  of  the  clan-Livingston  shares 
the  Chnton  view.  Now  takes  place  a  com- 
petition in  encomium.  Between  the  chief 
of  the  clan-Livingston  and  the  old  Governor, 
so  many  excellences  are  ascribed  to  Aaron 
that,  did  he  own  but  the  half,  he  might  think 
himself  a  model  for  mankind.  As  for  Mor- 
gan Lewis,  who  is  a  Livingston,  the  old 
Governor  finds  in  him  almost  as  many  vir- 
tues as  he  does  in  Aaron.  He  gives  the  chief 
of  the  clan-Livinsston  hand  and  word  that, 


414 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  AARON  BURR 


when  Aaron  steps  out  of  the  attorney-general- 
ship, Morgan  Lewis  shall  step  in. 

Having  drawn  to  his  support  the  two  most 
powerful  influences  of  the  State,  Aaron  makes 
search  for  an  issue.  He  looks  into  the  mouth 
of  the  pubhc,  and  there  it  is.  Politicians 
do  not  make  issues,  albeit  many  have  sung 
otherwise.  Indeed,  issues  are  so  much  like 
poets  that  they  are  born,  not  made.  Every 
age  has  its  issue;  and  from  it,  as  from  Clay, 
the  pohticians  mold  the  bricks  wherewith 
they  build  themselves  into  office.  The  issue 
is  ever  the  question  which  the  people  ask; 
it  is  ever  to  be  found  in  the  popular  mouth. 
That  is  where  Aaron  looks  for  it,  and  his 
quest  is  rewarded. 

The  issue,  so  much  demanded  of  Aaron's 
destinies,  is  one  of  those  big-little  questions 
which  now  and  then  arise  to  agitate  the  souls 
of  folk  and  demonstrate  the  greatness  of  the 
small.  There  are  twenty-eight  members  in 
the  National  Senate;  and,  since  it  is  the  first 
Senate  and  has  had  no  predecessor,  there 
exist  no  precedents  for  it  to  guide  by.  Also 
those  twenty-eight  senators  are  puffballs 
of  vanity.  On  the  first  day  of  their  first 
coming  together  they  prove  the  purblind 
sort  of  their  conceit  by  shutting  their  doors 
in  the  pubHc's  face.  They  say  they  will 
hold  their  se^^sions  in  secret.  The  pubhc 
takes  this  action  in  dudgeon,  and  begins 
filing  its  teeth. 

Puffiest  among  those  Senate  puffballs  is 
the  rusty  Schuyler.  As  narrow  as  he  is  arro- 
gant, and  as  dull  as  he  is  vain,  his  contempt 
for  the  herd  was  never  a  secret.     As  a  senator 


he  declares  himself  the  guardian,  not  the 
ser\ant,  of  a  jjeojile  too  weakly  foolish  for 
the  safe  transaction  of  their  own  affairs. 

It  is  against  this  self-sufficient  attitude  of 
the  rusty  Schuyler  touching  locked  Senate 
doors  that  Aaron  wages  war.  He  urges 
that  in  a  republic  but  two  keys  go  with  gov- 
ernment; one  is  to  the  treasury,  the  other 
to  the  jail.  He  declares  that  not  even  a 
senate  will  lock  a  door,  unless  it  be  either 
ashamed  or  afraid  of  what  it  is  about. 

"Of  what  is  our  Senate  afraid?"  he  asks. 
"  Of  what  is  it  ashamed  ?  I  cannot  answer 
these  questions;  the  people  of  the  State 
cannot  answer  them.  Under  the  circum- 
stances I  recommend  that  those  who  are 
interested  ask  General  Schuyler." 

The  pubhc  puts  the  questions  to  the  rusty 
Schuyler.  Not  receiving  an  answer,  the 
pubhc  carries  the  questions  to  the  Legisla- 
ture, where  the  Clinton  and  Livingston  in- 
fluences come  sharply  to  the  popular  back. 

"Shall  the  Senate  lock  its  door?" 

The  Clintons  say,  "No";  the  Livingstons 
say,  "No";  the  people  say,  "No."  Under 
such  overbearing  circumstances  the  Legisla- 
ture feels  driven  to  say,  "No";  and  as  a  best 
method  of  saying  it  elects  Aaron,  who  is  a 
"door-opener,"  over  the  rusty  Schuyler, 
who  is  a  "door-closer,"  by  a  majority  of 
thirteen  on  a  whole  vote  of  forty-eight.  It 
is  now  no  longer  "Aaron  Burr,"  no  longer 
"Colonel  Burr";  it  is  "  Senator  Burr."  The 
news  puts  ten  years  on  the  rusty  Schuyler. 
As  for  son-in-law  Hamilton,  the  blasting 
word  of  it  withers  and  makes  sick  his  heart. 


{To  he  continued) 


FAITH 


(F}-o>it   Victor  Hugo) 


BY   CURTIS   HIDDEN    PAGE 


G 


OD'S  bird  be  thou, 


That  trusts  the  frailest  bough 


And  gaily  sings, 

Knowing  that  he  hath   wings. 


30 


The   Four-Track.   Ntus 


A   REMARKABLE    AMERICAN 

A   Tragic   Story  of   Perverted  Genius 
Bv  L.    K.    Becker 


LIEUT. -COL.    AARON    BURR 
,  came   out  of  the  United   States 
army  in  1779  certain  of  a  distin- 
guished career.    Licensed  to  practice 
law  in  1782,  he  hastened  to  claim  the 
widow    he    had   won   and   to   set  up 
housekeeping  in 
Albany. 

Gen.  Alexan- 
der Hamilton 
had  married  also 
and  established 
himself  in  the 
same  city  ;  side 
by  side  these 
brilliant  young 
m  en  of  the 
young  Nation 
were  destined  to 
run  their  race  to 
doom ;  for  the  ruin  of  Burr  dates 
from  the  death  of  Hamilton. 

Burr  rose  rapidly  in  favor;  remov- 
ing in  '84  to  the  larger  field  of  New 
York,  though  serving  the  state  for 
several  years  as  representative  and 
attorney-general.  He  lived  in  a  com- 
modious house  in  Maiden  Lane,  a 
very  busyman,  but  neglecting  neither 
the  state,  his  clients,  nor  his  house- 
hold. 


Aaron  Burr 


Rich] 


Hill, 


at    Varick    and 


Charlton  streets,  was  the  home  most 
associated  with  Aaron  BtuT.  It  v.-as 
a  handsome  residence,  set  in  a  hun- 
dred acres  of  dale  and  woodland, 
two  miles  from  town;  a  place  where 
a  gentleman  might  live  in  quiet 
elegance.  There  were  picturesque 
views  of  the  Jersey  vShore,  and  the 
North  River  flowed  past  the  foot  of 
the  garden.  The  house  was  attract- 
ive; it  had  an  air  of  repose,  as 
though  the  habits  of  a  scholar  per- 
tained to  it,  which  was  true.  A 
noble  library  was  a  distinguishing 
feature.  Aaron  Burr  loved  books 
and  found  solace  in  them  all  his  life; 
scarcely   a   packet  ship   entered    the 


harbor  for  years  that  did  not  bring  a 
consignment  of  books  to  him. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Burr  house 
was  unlimited;  the  manners  of  the 
host  were  of  the  Chesterfield  order. 
Distinguished  guests  were  often  en- 
tertained; statesmen,  judges,  bishops 
and,  among  foreigners,  Talleyrand, 
Louis  Philippe  and  Jerome  Bona- 
parte. 

The  LTnited  States  senatorship 
launched  Burr  upon  a  turbulent 
political  sea,  and  Richmond  Hill  with 
its  handsome  appointments,  its 
retinue  of  servants  and  its  lavish 
hospitality  began  to  bear  heavily 
upon  the  income  of  its  master,  Avho 
was  absent  much  of  the  time.     The 


The  I  lamilton-Hurr  Diu.-l  MotuiiiK'nt, 
at  Wochawkcn 

Inscription:  "Upon  this  stone  rested  the  head 
of  the  patriot,  soldier,  statesman  and  jurist,  Ale.v- 
under  Hamilton,  after  the  duel  with  Aaron  I'.iirr; 
louLjht  July  nth,  1804." 


The   Four-Track   News 


31 


The  H.-B.  Dueling  Pistols 


emoluments  of  public  office  were  not 

equal  to  those  of  professional  service, 

and     debts     began    to    accumulate. 

Then  came  the  death  of  Madam  Burr, 

an  irreparable 

loss    to    her 

husband. 

In  1800  Burr 

was    chosen 

vice-president, 

and  his  restless 

soul  was  fired 

anew.      Know- 
ing   neither 

counsel     nor 

restraint,  he 

resolved     that 

nothing  should 

bar  his  way  to 

desired     victory    and,     later,     there 

came  a  day  when  Alexander  Hamilton 

represented  everything  that  stood  in 

his  path. 

Richmond  Hill  was  never  lovelier 

than  when  Col.  Burr  left  it,  early  on 

the  morning  of  July  nth,  1804,  just 
a  century  ago,  to  fulfill  an  appoint- 
ment at  Weehawken  ;  an  appointment 
that  deprived  the  United  States  of 
its  foremost  statesman,  filled  the 
American  people  with  sorrow  and 
indignation  and  blasted  forever  the 
name  and  fame  of  Aaron  Burr. 

A  few  hours  later  he  was  discov- 
ered in  his  library,  calmly  perusing 
a  classic,  though  the  city  was  plunged 
in  grief  over  his  morning's  work. 

Before  the  day  was  over,    Col.  Burr 
was  a  fugitive,  and   Richmond   Hill 
knew  him  no  more  as  a  master.     Be- 
fore the  end  of  his  term 
of  office  he  was  tried  for 
treason  by  our  highest 
tribunal    and,     though 
acquitted,   was  branded 
with    obloquy,     from 
which  he  attempted    to 
escape   by  seeking   for- 
eign lands. 

But  the  gods  were 
angry  and  would  not  be 
appeased. 

For  seven  years  Aaron 
Burr  was  a  wanderer  in 
Europe,  driven  from  country  to 
country,  though  forbidden  to  return 
to  his  own.  When  a  reluctant  per- 
mission was  finally  obtained  he  came 


under  an  assumed  name.      Reaching 
Boston  almost  penniless  he  remained 
all  night,   the  sole  occupant  of   the 
ship    that    brought    him.       On    the 
morrow  he  obtained    a    few 
dollars  from  the  sale  of  some 
books  he  had  with  him  and, 
setting   out  for    New  York, 
after    a    hazardous  voyage, 
he    landed    at    the    dead   of 
night    and    was    glad    of    a 
humble    shelter    until    day- 
light.     Debts    menaced    the 
(  x-vice-president,   and    pris- 
ons   yawned,     but    nothing 
disturbed    him,     for    his 
daughter,  Theodosia,  was  en 
route  to   meet   him.      Alas! 
The  ship  on  which  she  sailed 
never  entered  port,  and   no    tidings 
of  her  ever  reached  her  father's  ears. 
Professional  practice  among  petty 
offenders,   for    twenty  years,    main- 
tained   the    broken    old  man    in    his 
fallen  estate. 

Occasionally  the  old  fire  flashed, 
and  on  one  such  occasion  jMadam 
Jumel  was  led  to  employ  him  as  her 
solicitor.  So  satisfied  was  the  lady 
with  his  services  that  she  invited  his 
acquaintance,  Avhich  resulted  in  their 
marriage.  But  it  was  not  long  before 
a  rupture  occurred  between  the 
couple  on  account  of  the  disappear- 
ance of  certain  bonds  and  money 
belonging  to  the  lady. 
--r-  The  last  act  of  the  drama 

';j  was  at  hand;  paralysis  laid 

the  old  man  low.  A  gen- 
erous woman,  learning 
his  condition, 
t  o  o  k  h  i  m 
home  and 
ministered 
to  him  as 
though  she 
had  been  his 
daughter. 

At  the  very 
last,  n  o  t- 
withstanding 
he  ha  d  ab- 
jured their 
faith  and 
precepts,  he  requested  to  be  laid 
beside  his  parents  in  his  native 
Princeton.  There,  consigned  to  the 
tender    care    of    Nature,   repose   the 


Burial  Place  of  Alexander  Hamilton 
in  Old  Trinity  Churchyard 


32 

ashes   of   ambition, 
Aaron  Burr. 


The  Four-Track  News 


once    known    as 


"  A  hi^h  born  nature  nobly  planned 
Great  ends  to  serve  and  to  command; 
Heedless  of  God,  despising  man, 

He  lived  but  for  himself  alone 
And  ruin  wrouj^ht,  which  as  it  ran 

O'ertook  him,  who  but  self  had  known." 

The  Jumel  Mansion  still  clings 
to  the  cliff  overlooking  its  ancient 
manor  and  summons  both  romance 
and  history  to  substantiate  its  claims 
to    fame.       Like    the    octogenarian 


bridegroom,     the 
not     averse     to 
notwithstanding 
beneath   its  roof 


old  mansion  is 
notoriety.  And, 
it  has  sheltered 
the  beautiful  and 
the  illustrious  of  more  than  one 
country  besides  our  own,  one  fact  is 
never  omitted  in  a  description  of  the 


place :    ' '  This  was  once  the  residence 
of  Aaron  Burr." 

In    justice    it    might     be    added: 


The  Famous  Old  Jumel  Mansion 


''He,  too, 
olution. " 


was  a  Soldier  of  the  Rev- 


A  JAIL  AND  A  JAIL-BUILDER 


One  of  the  features  of  the  Califor- 
nia exhibit  at  the  St.  Louis  Fair  is 
the  exact  reproduction  of  the  first 
jail  erected  in  the  state,  or  upon  the 
Pacific  Coast.  The  building  is  of 
rude  design  and  is  built  of  cobble- 
stone set  in  adobe  mud.  It  stands 
at  Old  Town,  as  Old  San  Diego  is 
now  called,  and  is  in  a  very  good 
state  of  preservation  to-day,  after 
standing  more  than 
a  century  and  a 
quarter. 

An  interesting  in- 
cident connected  ^"PB^. 
with  the  jail  is  the 
fact  that  its  builder 
was  the  first  prisoner  to  be  confined 
in  the  institution.  He  was  also  the 
first — though  by  no  means  the  last 
— to  break  through  the  walls  to  pre- 
mature freedom. 

The  contractor  received  $5,000  for 
constructing  the  rude  affair,  a  sum, 
even  in  those  days  of  high  prices, 
seemingly  entirely  out  of  proportion 
to  the  article  furnished.  Upon  re- 
ceiving the  money  he  proceeded  to 
celebrate  the  completion  of  the  job 
by  getting  drunk  and  raising  an  un- 


usual disturbance.      He  was  arrested, 
brought  before   the  justice  and  was 
sentenced  to  a  period  of  confinement 
in  the  bastile  of  his  own  constructing. 
Having  built  the  jail  the  prisoner 
knew  its  peculiarities,  and,  therefore, 
wdien   the    judge   entered  a  drinking 
resort   for  a  little   stimulant    at  the 
close  of  his  day's  officiating,  the  first 
person  he  met  was  the  jail-builder, 
whom  he  had  so  re- 
cently sentenced  to 
re  ti  r  e  men  t  from 
San  Diego  society. 
"Why,  Bill,  how 
is  this?"  exclaimed 
the  astonished  mag- 
istrate.     "I    thought    vou    were    in 
jail!" 

"Oh!  stdi)  your  foolishness,"  cried 
Bill,  "and  come  and  have  a  drink." 
Tradition  says  that  the  judge  ac- 
cepted the  invitation  and  that  Bill 
did  not  return  to  his  cell.  It  is 
stated,  however,  that  tlie  jail  was 
ordered  repaired  and  that  the 
escaped  prisoner  received  an  addi- 
tional fee  from  the  county  for 
fixing  the  hole  he  had  made  in  secur- 
ino-  his  freedom. 


"  SilvcM-  and   ^old  arc  not    llie  only  coin;    virtue  too  passes 
current  all  over  the  world."— Euripides 


THE  INDICTMENT  OF  AARON  BURR 


{THE  ROMANCE  OF  AARON  BURR) 


BY 


ALFRED   HENRY   LEWIS 


T  is  evening  at  the  White 
House.  The  few  dinner  guests 
have  departed,  and  Jefferson  is 
alone  in  his  study.  As  he 
C^  stands  at  the  open  window  and 
gazes  out  across  the  sweep  of 
lawn  to  the  Potomac,  shining 
like  silver  in  the  rays  of  the  full 
May  moon,  his  face  shows  cloudy  and  angry. 
The  face  of  the  sage  of  Monticello  has  put 
aside  its  usual  expression  of  philosophy.  In 
place  of  the  calm  that  should  reign  there,  the 
look  which  prevails  is  one  of  narrowness, 
prejudice  and  wrathful  passion. 

Apparently  he  waits  the  coming  of  a  visitor, 
for  he  wheels  without  surprise  as  a  fashion- 
ably dressed  gentleman  is  ushered  in  by  a 
servant. 

"Ah,  Wirt!"  he  cries;  "be  seated,  please. 
You  got  my  note?" 

William  Wirt  is  thirty-five — a  clean,  well- 
bred  figure  of  the  conventional  Virginia  gen- 
tleman. He  accepts  the  proffered  chair,  but 
with  the  manner  of  one  only  half  at  ease,  as 
not  altogether  liking  the  reason  of  his  WTiite 
House  presence. 

"Your  note,  Mr.  President?"  he  repeats. 
"  Oh,  yes,  I  received  it.  \\Tiat  you  propose  is 
highly  flattering.    And  yet — and  yet " 


"And  yet  what,  sir?"  breaks  in  Jefferson 
impatiently.  "Surely,  I  propose  nothing 
unusual?  You  are  practicing  at  the  Rich- 
mond bar.  I  ask  you  to  conduct  the  case 
against  Colonel  Burr." 

"  Nothing  unusual  of  course,"  returns  Wirt, 
who,  gifted  of  a  keen  political  eye,  hungrily 
foresees  a  final  attorney-generalship  in  what 
he  is  about.  "  And  yet,  as  I  was  about  to  say, 
there  are  matters  which  should  be  considered. 
There  is  George  Hay,  for  instance;  he  is  the 
Government's  attorney  for  the  Richmond  dis- 
trict. It  is  his  province  as  well  as  duty  to 
prosecute  Colonel  Burr;  he  might  resent  my 
being  saddled  upon  him.  Have  vou  thought 
ofjSIr.  Hay?" 

"Thought  of  him?  Hay  is  a  dullard,  a 
blockhead,  a  respectable  nonentity! — no 
more  fit  to  contend  with  Colonel  Burr  and 
those  whom  he  will  have  about  him  than 
would  be  a  sucking  babe!  He  is  of  no  cour- 
age, no  force,  sir;  he  seems  to  think  that,  as 
the  son-in-law  of  James  Monroe,  he  has  done 
quite  enough  to  merit  success  in  both  law  and 
politics.  No;  there  is  much  depending  on 
this  trial,  and  I  desire  you  to  try  it.  Burr 
must  be  convicted.  The  black  Federal  plot 
to  destroy  this  Republic  and  set  a  monarchy 
in  its  stead,  a  plot  of  which  he  is  but  a  single 


326 


THE    INDICTMENT    OF    AARON    BURR 


JOHN      MARSHALL,      FIRST     CHIEF     JUSTICE     OF      THE     UNITED 
STATES,    PRESIDING   JUDGE    IN   THE    BURR   TRIAL 


figure,  must  be  nipped  in  the  bud.  Also,  you 
will  find  that  I  am  to  be  on  trial  as  much  as 
Colonel  Burr.  The  case  will  not  be  'The 
People  against  Aaron  Burr,'  but  'The  Fed- 
eralists against  Thomas  Jefferson.'  Do  you 
understand?  I  am  the  object  of  a  Federal 
plot,  as  much  as  is  the  Government  itself! 
John  Marshall,  that  arch  Federalist,  will  be 
on  the  bench,  doing  all  he  can  for  the  plotters 
and  their  instrument,  Colonel  Burr.  It  is  no 
time  to  risk  myself  on  so  slender  a  support  as 
George  Hay.  It  is  you  who  must  conduct 
this  cause." 

Wirt  is  a  bit  scandalized  by  this  outburst; 
especially  at  the  reckless  dragging  in  of  Chief 
Justice  Marshall.  He  expostulates;  but  is 
too  much  the  courtier  to  let  any  harshness 
creep  into  either  his  manner  or  his  speech. 

"You  surely  do  not  mean  to  say,"  he  be- 
gins, "  that  the  Chief  Justice " 

"  I  mean  to  say,"  interrupts  Jefferson,  "  that 
you  must  be  ready  to  meet  every  trick  that 
Marshall  can  play  against  the  Government. 
For  all  his  long  robe,  is  he  of  different  clay 
than  any  other?  Believe  me,  he's  a  Federal- 
ist long  before  he's  a  Judge!  I>ct  me  ask  a 
(|uestion  or  two.  Why  did  Marsluill,  the 
Chief  Justice  mind  you,  hokl  the  preliminary 
examination  of  Burr?  Why,  having  held  it, 
did  he  not  commit  him  for  treason  ?  Why  did 
he  hold  him  only  for  a  misdemeanor,  and 


admit  him  to  bail?  Does  that  not  look  as 
though  Marshall  had  taken  possession  of  the 
case  in  Burr's  intere.;t  ?  You  spoke  a  moment 
ago  of  the  propriety  of  Hay  prosecuting  the 
charge  against  Burr,  being,  as  he  is,  the  Gov- 
ernment's attorney  for  that  district.  Does  it 
not  occur  to  you  that  his  honor,  Judge  Griffin, 
is  the  iudge  for  that  district  ?  And  yet  Mar- 
shall shoves  him  aside  to  make  room  on  the 
l^ench  for  himself.  Sir,  there  is  chicanery  in 
this.  We  must  watch  Marshall.  A  Chief 
Justice  indeed!  A  Chief  Federalist  rather! 
Why,  he  so  much  lacked  self-respect  as  to 
become  a  guest  at  a  dinner  given  in  Colonel 
Burr's  honor,  after  he  had  committed  that 
traitor  in  ten  thousand  dollars  bail!  An  ex- 
cellent, a  dignified  Chief  Justice  truly! — 
doing  dinner-table  honor  to  one  whom  he 
must  presently  try  for  a  capital  offence!" 

"Justice  Marshall's  appearance  at  the 
Burr  dinner" — Wirt  makes  the  admission 
doubtfully — "was  not,  I  admit,  in  the  very 
flower  of  good  taste.  None  the  less,  I  should 
infer  honesty  rather  than  baseness  from  such 
appearance.  If  he  contemplated  any  wrong 
in  Colonel  Burr's  favor,  he  would  have  re- 
mained away.  Coming  to  the  case  itself," 
continues  Wirt,  anxious  to  avoid  further 
discussion  of  Judge  Marshall,  as  a  topic 
whereon  he  and  Jefferson  are  n(^t  likely  to 
agree,  "what  is  the  specific  act  of  treason 
with  which  the  Government  charges  Colonel 
Burr?" 

"The  conspiracy  wherein  he  was  prime 
mover  aimed  first  to  take  Mexico  from  the 
Spanish.  Having  taken  Mexico,  the  plotters 
— Colonel  Burr  at  the  head — purposed  seizing 
New  Orleans.  That  would  give  them  a  hold 
in  the  vast  region  drained  by  the  Mississippi. 
Everything  west  of  the  Alleghanies  was  ex- 
pected to  ilock  'round  their  standards.  With 
an  empire  reaching  from  Daricn  to  the  Great 
Lakes,  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Alleghanies, 
their  final  move  was  to  be  upon  Washington 
itself.  Sir,  the  Federalists  hate  this  Republic 
— have  always  hated  it!  What  they  desire  is  a 
monarchy.  They  want  a  king,  not  a  presi- 
dent, in  the  White  House." 

"I  learn,"  observes  Wirt,  " — I  learn,  since 
my  arrival,  that  Colonel  Burr  has  been  in 
Washington." 

"That  was  three  days  ago.  He  demanded 
co])ies  of  my  orders  to  Ciencral  \\'iikinson. 
When  I  ])revented  his  obtaining  them,  he  said 
he  would  move  for  a  subpania  duces  tecum, 
addressed  to  me  personally.  Think  of  that, 
sir!     Can  you  conceive  greater  impudence? 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


327 


He  will  sue  out  a  subpcrna  aj^ainst  the  Presi- 
dent of  this  country,  and  compel  him  to  come 
into  court  bringin<r  the  archives  of  Govern- 
ment!" 

Wirt  shrugs  his  shoulders.  "  And  why  not, 
sir?"  he  asks  at  last.  "In  the  eye  of  the  law 
a  president  is  no  more  sacred  than  a  path- 
master.  A  murder  might  be  committed  in 
the  White  House  grounds.  You,  looking 
from  that  window,  might  chance  to  witness  it 
— miglit,  indeed,  ])e  the  only  witness.  You, 
yourself,  are  a  lawyer,  Mr.  President.  You 
will  not  tell  me  that  an  innocent  man,  accused 
of  murder,  is  to  be  denied  your  testimony  ? — 
that  he  is  to  hang  rather  than  ruflfle  a  presi- 
dential dignity?  What  is  the  difference  be- 
tween the  case  I've  supposed  and  that  against 
Colonel  Burr?  He  is  to  be  charged  with 
treason,  you  say!  Very  well;  treason  is  a 
hanging  matter  as  much  as  murder." 

Jefferson  and  Wirt,  step  by  step,  go  over 
the  arrest  of  Aaron  and  what  led  to  it.  It  is 
settled  that  Wirt  shall  lead  for  the  prosecu- 
tion. Also,  when  the  Grand  Jury  is  struck, 
he  must  see  to  it  that  Aaron  is  indicted  for 
treason. 

"  ISIarshall  has  confined  the  inquiry,"  says 


JOHN    WICKHAM,    CHIEF    ASSOCIATE    OF    EDMUND    RANDOLPH 
IN    DEFENCE    OF    BURR 


Jefferson,  "to  what  Burr  contemplated 
against  Mexico — a  mere  misdemeanor!  You, 
Wirt,  must  have  the  Grand  Jury  take  up  that 
part  of  the  conspiracy  which  was   leveled 


RICHMOND    AS    IT    LOOKED    AT   THE    TIME    OF    BURR'S    TRIAL 


328 


THE    INDICTMENT    OF    AARON    BURR 


against  this  country.  There  is  abundant 
testimony.  Burr  talked  it  to  Eaton  in  Wash- 
ington, to  Morgan  in  Ohio,  to  Wilkinson  at 
Fort  Massac." 

"  You  speak  of  his  talking  treason,"  returns 
Wirt,  with  a  thoughtful,  non-committal  air. 
"  Did  he  an\nvhere  or  on  any  occasion  ad  it  ? 
Was  there  any  overt  act  of  war  ?" 

"  WTiat  should  you  call  the  doings  at  Blen- 
nerhasset  Island?— the  gathering  of  armed 
men  and  stores?— the  boat  -  building  at 
Marietta  and  Nashville?  Are  not  those, 
taken  with  the  intention,  hostile  acts? — overt 
acts  of  war?" 

Wirt  falls  into  deep  study.  "  We  must,"  he 
says  after  a  moment's  silence,  "leave  those 
questions,  I  fear,  for  Justice  Marshall  to 
decide." 

Jefferson  relates  how  he  has  written  Gov- 
ernor Pinckney  of  South  Carolina  advising 
the  arrest  of  Alston. 

"  To  be  sure,  Alston  is  not  so  bad  as  Colo- 
nel Burr,"  he  observes,  "for  the  reason  that 
he  is  not  so  big  as  Colonel  Burr;  just  as  a 


young  rattlesnake  is  not  so  venomous  as  an 
old  one."  Then,  impressively:  "Wirt,  Colo- 
nel Burr  is  a  dangerous  man !  He  will  find  his 
place  in  history  as  the  Catiline  of  America." 

Wirt  cannot  hide  a  smile:  "It  is  but  fair 
you  should  say  so,  Mr.  President,  since  at  the 
Richmond  hearing  he  spoke  of  you  as  a 
presidential  Jack  Cade."  Seeing  that  Jeffer- 
son does  not  enjoy  the  reference,  Wirt  hastens 
to  another  subject.  "  Colonel  Burr  will  have 
formidable  counsel.  Aside  from  Wickham, 
and  Botts,  and  Edmund  Randolph,  across 
from  Maryland  will  come  Luther  Martin." 

"Luther  Martin!"  cries  Jefferson.  "So 
they're  to  unloose  that  Federal  bulldog 
against  me!  But  then  the  whisky-swilling 
beast  is  never  sober." 

"No  more  safe  as  an  adversary  for  that," 
retorts  Wirt.  "If  I  am  ever  called  upon  to 
write  Luther  Martin's  epitaph,  I  shall  make 
it, '  Ever  drunk  and  ever  dangerous!' " 

On  the  bench  sits  Chief  Justice  Marshall — 
tall,  slender,  eyes  as  black  as  Aaron's  own, 


WILLIAM    WIRT,   CHIEF   COUNSEL    FOR    THE    GOVERNMENT    IN    THE    TRIAL    OF    Ul'RK 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


329 


face  high,  dignified,  brow  nohle,  full,  the 
whole  man  breathing  distinction.  By  his 
side,  like  some  small  thing  lost  in  shadow,  no 
one  noticing  him,  no  one  addressing  him,  a 
picture  of  silent  huniilitv,  sits  District  Judge 
Griffin. 

For  the  Government  comes  Wirt,  sneering, 
harsh — as  cold  and  hard  and  fine  and  keen  as 
thrice  tempered  steel.  With  him  is  Hay — 
slow,  pompous,  of  much  respectability  and 
dull  weakness.  Assisting  Wirt  and  Hay,  and 
filling  a  minor  place,  is  one  McRae. 

Leading  for  the  defence  is  Aaron  himself — 
confident,  unshaken.  Already  he  has  begun 
to  re-lay  his  plans  of  Mexican  conquest.  He 
assures  Blennerhasset,  who  is  with  him,  that 
the  present  interruption  should  mean  no 
more  than  a  time-waste  of  six  months.  With 
Aaron  sit  Edmund  Randolph,  the  local 
Nestor;  Wickham — clear,  sure  of  law  and 
fact;  and  Botts,  the  Bayard  of  the  Richmond 
bar.  Most  formidable  is  Aaron's  rear  guard, 
the  thunderous  Luther  Martin — coarse,  fu- 
rious, fearless — gay  clothes  stained  and  soiled 


— rufiics  foul  and  grimy — eyes  fierce,  bleary, 
bloodshot — nose  bulbous,  red  as  a  carbuncle 
— a  hoarse,  roaring,  threatening  voice — the 
Thersites  of  the  hour.  Never  sober,  he  rolls 
into  court  as  drunk  as  a  Plantagenet.  Ever 
dangerous,  he  reads,  hears,  sees  everything, 
and  forgets  nothing.  Quick,  rancorous, 
headlong  as  a  fighting  bull,  he  lowers  his 
horns  against  Wirt  whenever  that  polished 
one  j)uts  himself  within  forensic  reach.  Also, 
for  all  his  cool,  sneering  skill,  Toreador  Wirt 
never  meets  the  charge  squarely,  but  steps 
aside  from  it. 

Apropos  of  nothing,  as  Martin  takes  his 
place  by  the  trial  table,  he  roars  out: 

"  Why  is  this  trial  ordered  for  Richmond  ? 
Why  is  it  not  heard  in  Washington  ?  It  is  by 
command  of  Jefferson,  sir.  He  thinks  that  in 
his  own  State  of  Virginia,  where  he  is  invinci- 
ble and  Colonel  Burr  a  stranger,  the  name  of 
Jefferson  will  compel  a  verdict  of  guilt. 
There  is  fairness  for  you!" 

Wirt  glances  across,  but  makes  no  response 
to  the  tirade;  for   Martin,   purple  of  face. 


EDMUND    RANDOLPH,    CHIEF   ASSOCIATE    COUNSEL    FOR    BURR 


330 


THE    INDICTMENT    OF    AARON    BURR 


snorting  ferociously,  seems  only  waiting  a 
word  from  him  to  utter  more  and  worse 
things. 

The  Grand  Jury  is  chosen:  foreman,  John 
Randolph  of  Roanoke — sour,  inimical,  hate- 
ful, voice  high  and  spiteful  like  the  voice  of  a 
scolding  woman.  The  Grand  Jury  is  sent  to 
its  room  to  deliberate  concerning  indict- 
ments, while  the  court  adjourns  for  the  day. 

It  is  well  into  the  evening  when  the  parties 
in  interest  leave  the  court  room.  As  Wirt  and 
Hay,  arm  in  arm,  are  crossing  the  Court 
House  green,  they  become  aware  of  an 
orator  who,  loud  of  tone  and  careless  of  his 
English,  is  addressing  a  crowd  from  the  steps 
of  a  corner  grocery.  Just  as  the  two  arrive 
within  ear-shot,  the  orator — lean,  hawk-like 
of  face — tosses  aloft  a  rake-handle  arm,  and 
shouts: 

"  \^"hen  Jefferson  says  that  Colonel  Burr  is 
a  traitor,  Jefferson  lies  in  his  throat!" 

The  crowd  applaud  enthusiastically.  Hay 
looks  at  Wirt. 

"  Who  is  the  fellow  ?"  he  asks. 

"  Oh !  he's  a  swash-buckler  militia  general," 
returns  Wirt  carelessly.  "He's  a  low  fellow, 
I'm  told;  his  name  is  Andrew  Jackson.  He 
was  one  of  Colonel  Burr's  confederates. 
They  say  he's  the  greatest  blackguard  in 
Tennessee." 

Just  now,  did  some  Elijah  touch  the 
Wirtian  elbow  and  tell  of  a  day  to  come  when 
he,  Wirt,  will  be  driven  to  resign  that  coveted 
attorney -generalship  into  the  presidential 
hands  of  the  "blackguard,"  who  will  receive 
it  promptly,  and  dismiss  him  into  private  life, 
no  more  than  half-thanked  for  what  public 
service  he  has  rendered,  that  ambitious  Vir- 
ginian would  hold  the  soothsayer  to  be  a 
madman,  not  a  prophet. 

Scores  upon  scores  of  witnesses  are  sent 
one  by  one  to  the  Grand  Jury.  The  days  run 
into  weeks.  Every  hour  the  question  is 
asked:  Where  is  Wilkinson?  The  red-nosed 
one  is  strangely,  exasperatingly  absent. 

Wirt  seeks  to  explain  that  absence.  The 
journey  is  long,  he  says.  He  will  pledge  his 
honor  for  the  red-nosed  one's  appearance. 

Meanwhile,  the  friends  of  Aaron  pour  in 
from'  North  and  West  and  South.  The  stub- 
born, faithful  Swartwout  is  there,  with  his 
brother  Samuel;  for  Samuel  Swartwout  and 
young  Ogden  and  Adair  and  HoUman,  shi])ped 
aforetime  per  schooner  to  Baltimore  by  the 
red-nosed  one  as  traitors,  have  been  declared 
innocent,  and  are  all  in  Richmond  attending 
upon  their  chief. 


One  morning  the  whisj^er  goes  about  that 
"Wilkinson  has  come."  Later,  the  whisi)er 
is  confirmed  by  the  red-nosed  one's  appear- 
ance in  court.  Young  Washington  Irving, 
who  has  come  down  from  New  ^'ork  in  the 
interest  of  Aaron,  writes  as  follows  concern- 
ing the  advent  of  the  red-nosed  one: 

Wilkinson  strutted  into  court  and  took  his 
stand  in  a  parallel  line  with  Colonel  Burr. 
Here  he  stood  for  a  moment  swelling  like  a 
turkey-copk  and  bracing  himself  to  meet 
Colonel  Burr's  eye.  The  latter  took  no  notice 
of  him  until  Judge  Marshall  directed  the  clerk 
to  "  swear  General  Wilkinson."  At  the  men- 
tion of  the  name,  Colonel  Burr  turned  and 
looked  him  full  in  the  face  with  one  of  his 
piercing  regards,  swept  him  from  licad  to  foot, 
and  then  went  on  conversing  with  his  counsel 
as  before.  The  whole  look  was  over  in  a  mo- 
ment ;  and  yet  it  was  admirable.  There  was 
no  appearance  of  study  or  constraint,  no  af- 
fectation of  disdain  or  defiance ;  only  a  slight 
expression  of  contempt  played  across  the  coun- 
tenance, such  as  one  might  show  on  seeing  a 
person  whom  one  considers  mean  and  vile. 

That  evening  Samuel  Swartwout  meets  the 
red-nosed  one,  as  the  latter  is  strutting  on  the 
walk  for  the  admiration  of  men,  and  thrusts 
him  into  a  mud-hole.  The  lean  Jackson  is  so 
delighted  at  this  disposition  of  the  red-nosed 
one  that  he  clasps  the  warlike  Swartwout  in 
his  rake-handle  arms.  Later,  by  twenty-two 
years,  he  will  make  him  collector  of  the  port 
of  New  York  for  it.  Just  now,  however,  he 
advises  a  duel,  holding  the  mud-hole  episode 
to  be  otherwise  incomj)lete. 

Since  Swartwout  has  had  the  duel  in  his 
mind  from  the  beginning,  he  and  the  lean 
Jackson  combine  in  the  production  of  a  chal- 
lenge, which  is  duly  sent  to  the  red-nosed  one 
in  the  name  of  Swartwout.  The  red-nosed 
one  has  no  heart  for  duels,  and  crawls  from 
under  the  challenge  by  saying,  "I  refuse  to 
hold  communication  with  a  traitor."  There- 
upon Swartwout,  with  the  lean  Jackson  to 
aid  him,  again  lapses  into  the  clerical,  and 
prints  the  following  gorgeous  outburst  in  the 
Richmond  Gazette: 

Brigadier  Gener.\l  Wilkinson: 

Sir  :  When  once  the  chain  of  infamy  grapples 
to  a  knave,  every  new  link  creates  a  fresh  sensa- 
tion of  detestation  and  horror.  As  it  gradually 
or  precipitately  unfolds  itself,  we  behold  in  each 
succeeding  coiuieclion  and  arising  from  the  same 
corrupt  and  contaminated  snurce,  the  same 
base  and  degenerated  conduct.  1  could  not 
have  supposed  that  you  would  have  completed 
the  catalogue  of  your  crimes  by  adding  to  the 
guilt  of  treachery,  forgery  and  perjury  the  ac- 
complishment of  cowardice.     Having  failed  in 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


331 


two  different  attempts 
to  procure  an  inter- 
view with  you,  such 
as  no  gentleman  of 
lionor  could  refuse, 
I  have  only  to  pro- 
nounce and  publish 
you  to  the  world  as 
a  coward. 
Samuel   Swartwout. 


The  Grand  Jur\- 
comes  into  court,  and 
by  the  shrill  mouth 
of  Foreman  Ran- 
dolph reports  two 
indictments  against 
Aaron:  one  for  trea- 
son, ''as  having 
levied  war  against 
the  United  States," 
and  one  for  "  having 
levied  war  upon  a 
country,    to     wit, 

Mexico,  with  which  the  United  States  was 
at  peace" — the  latter  a  misdemeanor. 


DISTRICT   JUDGE    GRIFFIN 


HOW  AARON  WAS  FOUND  INNO- 
CENT 

THE  indictments  are  read,  and  Aaron 
pleads  "Not  guilty!"  Thereupon 
Luther  Martin  moves  for  a  sub- 
pcciia  duces  tecum  against  Jefferson,  com- 
manding him  to  bring  into  court  those 
written  orders  from  the  files  of  the  War  De- 
partment, which  he,  as  president  and  ex- 
officio  commander-in-chief  of  the  armv, 
issued  to  the  red-nosed  Wilkinson.  Arguing 
the  motion,  the  violent  Martin  proceeds  in 
these  words: 

We  intend  to  show  that  these  orders  were 
contrary  to  the  Constitution  and  the  laws.  We 
intend  to  show  that  by  these  orders  Colonel 
Burr's  property  and  person  were  to  be  de- 
stroyed ;  yes,  by  these  tyrannical  orders  the 
life  and  property  of  an  innocent  man  were  to 
be  exposed  to  destruction.  This  is  a  peculiar 
case,  sirs.  President  Jefferson  has  undertaken 
to  pre-judge  my  client,  by  declaring  that  "of 
his  guilt  there  can  be  no  doubt !  "  He  has 
assumed  to  himself  the  knowledge  of  the  Su- 
preme Being,  and  pretended  to  search  the 
heart  of  my  client.  He  has  proclaimed  him  a 
traitor  in  the  face  of  the  country.  He  has 
let  slip  the  dogs  of  war,  the  hell-hounds  of  per- 
secution, to  hunt  down  my  client.  And,  now, 
would  the  President  of  the  United  States,  who 


has  himself  raised  all 
this  clamor,  pretend 
to  keep  back  the 
papers  wanted  for  a 
trial  where  life  itself 
is  at  stake?  It  is  a 
sacred  principle  that 
the  accused  has  a 
right  to  the  evidence 
needed  for  his  de- 
fence. And  whoso- 
ever— whether  he  be 
President  or  some  less- 
er man  —  withholds 
such  evidence  is  sub- 
stantially a  murderer, 
and  will  be  so  re- 
corded in  the  register 
of   heaven. 


Argument  ended, 
Marshall,  Chief  Jus- 
tice, sustains  the 
motion.  He  holds 
that  the  suhpxna 
duces  tecum  may  is- 
sue, and  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that,  if  it 
be  necessary  to  the  ends  of  justice,  the  per- 
sonal attendance  of  Jefferson  himself  shall 
be  compelled. 

The  charge  is  treason,  and  no  bail  can  be 
taken;  Aaron  must  be  locked  up.  The 
Governor  of  Virginia  offers  as  a  place  of 
detention  a  superb  suite  of  rooms,  meant  for 
official  occupation,  on  the  third  floor  of  the 
penitentiar)^  building.  Marshall,  Chief  Jus- 
tice, accepting  such  proffer,  orders  Aaron's 
confinement  in  the  superb  official  suite. 
Aaron  takes  possession,  stocks  the  larder, 
loads  the  sideboards,  and,  with  a  cloud  of  ser- 
vitors, gives  a  dinner  party  to  twenty  friends. 
The  lustrous  Theo  arrives,  and  takes  up 
her  residence  with  Aaron  in  the  official 
suite,  as  lady  of  the  establishment.  Each  day 
a  hundred  visitors  call,  among  them  the  aris- 
tocracy of  the  town.  Also  dinner  follows 
dinner;  the  official  suite  assumes  a  gala,  not 
to  say  a  gallant,  look,  and  no  one  would  think 
it  a  prison,  or  dream  for  one  urbane  moment 
that  Aaron — our  follower  of  the  gospel 
according  to  Lord  Chesterfield — is  fighting 
for  his  life. 

Following  the  order  for  the  subpoena  duces 
tecum,  and  Aaron's  dinner-giving  incarcera- 
tion in  the  official  suite,  ^Larshall,  Chief  Jus- 
tice, directs  that  the  court  be  adjourned  until 
August — a  month  away. 

Wirt,  during  the  vacation,  goes  over  to 
Washington.  He  finds  Jefferson  in  a  mood 
of  double  anger. 


JOHN    RANDOLPH    OF    ROANOKE,    FOREMAN    OF    GRAND   JURY    WHICH    INDICTED    BIRR    FOR   TREASON 


"What  did  I  tell  vou,"  cries  Jefferson, 
"  —what  did  I  tell  you  of  Marshall  ?  "  Then 
he  rushes  on  to  the  utterances  of  the  violent 
Luther  Martin.  ''Shall  you  not  move,"  he 
demands,  "to  commit  Martin  as  particeps 
criminis  with  Colonel  Burr?  There  should 
be  evidence  to  fix  upon  him  misprision  of 
treason  at  least.  At  any  rate,  such  a  step 
would  put  down  our  impudent  Federal  bull- 
dog, and  show  that  the  most  clamorous 
defenders  of  Colonel  Burr  are  one  and  all  his 
accomplices." 

Meanwhile,  the  "impudent  Federal  hull- 
dog"  attends  a  Fourth  of  July  dinner  in  Balti- 
more. Every  man  at  table  save  himself  is  an 
adherent  of  JetTerson.  Eager  to  demonstrate 
that  loyal  fact  to  the  Administration,  sundry 
of  the  guests  make  speeches  full  of  uncom- 
pliment  for  Martin,  and  propose  a  toast: 

"Aaron  Burr!  May  his  treachery  to  his 
country  e.xalt  him  to  the  scalTold!" 

More  speeches  replete  of  venom  are  aimed 
at  Martin;  whereupon  that  undaunted 
drunkard  gets  upon  his  feet. 


"Who  is  this  Aaron  Burr,"  he  roars, 
"whose  guilt  you  have  pronounced,  and  for 
whose  blood  your  parched  throats  so  thirst! 
Was  he  not,  a  few  years  back,  adored  by 
you  next  to  your  God?  Were  you  not  then 
his  warmest  admirers?  Did  he  not  then 
possess  every  virtue  ?  He  was  then  in  power. 
He  had  influence.  You  were  proud  of  his 
notice.  His  merest  smile  brightened  all  your 
faces.  His  merest  frown  lengthened  all  your 
visages.  Go,  ye  holiday,  ye  sunshine  friends! — 
ye  time-servers,  ye  criers  of  hosanna  to-day 
and  crucitiers  to-morrow! — go;  hide  your 
heads  from  the  contempt  and  detestation  of 
everv  honorable,  every  right-minded  man!" 

August:  The  day  of  trial  arrives.  Wirt, 
with  the  dull,  deferentHay,  has  gone  over  the 
testimony  against  Aaron,  and  arranged  the 
procession  of  its  introduction.  He  will  begin 
far  back.  Bv  the  mouth  of  the  red-nosed 
Wilkinson — st)mewhat  in  hiding  from  Swart- 
wout — and  bv  others,  he  will  relate,  from  the 
beginning,  Aaron's  dream  of  Mexican  con- 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


333 


quest.  He  will  show  how  the 
vision  grew  and  expanded  until  it 
reacted  upon  the  United  States, 
and  the  downfall  of  Washington 
became  as  much  parcel  of  Aaron's 
design  as  was  the  capture  of 
Mexico.  He  would  trace  Aaron, 
step  by  step,  through  his  many 
conferences  in  Washington,  in 
Marietta,  in  Nashvilic,  in  Cincin- 
nati ;  and  then  on  to  New  Orleans, 
where  he  is  closeted  with  Mer- 
chant Clark  and  the  Bishop  of 
Louisiana. 

And  so  the  parties  go  into  court. 
The  jury  being  sworn,  Marshall, 
Chief  Justice,  at  once  overthrows 
those  well-laid  plans  of  Wirt. 

"You  must  go  to  the  act,  sir," 
says  Marshall,  Chief  Justice. 
"Treason,  like  murder,  is  an  act. 
You  can't  think  treason,  you  can't 
plot  treason,  you  can't  talk  trea- 
son; vou  can  only  act  it.  In 
murder  you  must  first  prove  the 
killing — the  murderous  act,  be- 
fore you  may  offer  evidence  of 
an  intent.  And  so  in  treason. 
You  must  begin  by  proving  the 
overt  act  of  war  against  the  country,  before  I 
can  permit  evidence  of  an  intent  which  led 
up  to  it." 

This  ruling  throws  Wirt  abroad  in  his  cal- 
culations. The  "Federal  bulldog"  Martin 
grows  vulgarly  gleeful,  Wirt  correspondingly 
blue. 

Being  prodded  by  Marshall,  Chief  Justice, 
Wirt  declares  that  the  "act  of  war"  was  the 
assembling  of  forty  armed  men,  under  one 
Taylor,  at  Blennerhasset  Island.  They 
stopped  at  the  island  but  a  moment,  and 
Aaron  himself  was  in  Lexington.  None  the 
less  there  were  forty  of  them;  they  were 
armed;  they  were  there  by  design  and  plan  of 
Aaron,  with  an  ultimate  purpose  of  levying 
waragainst  this  Government.  Wirturgesthat 
constructive  war  was  at  that  very  island 
moment  waged;  Aaron,  while  personally 
absent,  being  constructively  present  and  con- 
structively waging  such  war. 

At  this  setting  forth,  Marshall,  Chief  Jus- 
tice, purses  his  lips,  as  might  one  who  thinks 
the  argument  far-fetched  and  over-finely 
spun.  Martin,  the  "  Federal  bulldog,"  docs 
not  scruple  to  laugh  outright. 

"  Was  ever  heard  such  hash ! "  cries  Martin. 
"Men  may  bear  arms  without  waging  war! 


LUTHER    MARTIN,    THE    "  FEDERAL    BULLDOG,"    COUNSEL    FOR    BURR 


Forty  men  no  more  mean  war  than  four! 
Men  mav  float  down  the  Ohio,  and  still  no 
war  be  waged.  Because  the  hypochondriac 
Jefferson  imagined  war,  we  are  to  receive  the 
thing  as  res  adjiidicata,  and  now  give  way 
while  a  pleasantly  concocted  tale  of  that  car- 
nage of  a  presidential  nightmare  is  retailed 
from  the  witness  box.  Sirs,  you  are  not  to 
fiddle  folk  onto  a  scaffold  to  any  such  tune  as 
that,  though  a  president  furnish  the  music." 

Marshall,  Chief  Justice,  still  with  pursed 
lips  and  knotted  forehead,  directs  Wirt  to 
proceed  with  his  evidence  of  what  at  Blenner- 
hasset Island  he  relies  upon  to  constitute, 
constructively  or  otherwise,  a  state  of  war. 
Having  heard  the  evidence,  he  will  pass  upon 
the  points  of  law  presented. 

Wirt,  desperate  because  he  may  do  no 
better,  puts  forward  one  Eaton  as  a  witness. 
The  latter  tells  a  long,  involved  story,  which 
sounds  vastly  like  fiction  and  not  at  all  like 
fact,  of  conversations  with  Aaron.  Aaron 
brings  out  in  cross-examination,  that  within 
ten  days  after  he,  Eaton,  goes  with  this  tale  to 
Jefferson,  a  claim  for  ten  thousand  dollars 
which  he  has  been  pressing  without  success 
against  the  Government  was  paid.  Aaron 
suggests  that  Eaton,  to   induce   payment  of 


334 


THE    INDICTMENT    OF    AARON    BURR 


such  claim,  invented  his  narrative,  and  the 
suggestion  is  plainly  acceptable  to  the  jury. 

Following  Eaton,  Wirt  calls  Truxton;  and 
later  the  suspicious  Morgan,  who  first  wrote 
Jefferson  touching  Aaron  and  his  plans. 
Then  follow  Blennerhasset's  gardener  and 
groom,  and  one  Woodbridge,  Blennerhas- 
set's man  of  business.  Wirt,  by  these, 
shows  Aaron's  frequent  presence  on  the 
island;  the  boats,  building  at  Marietta;  the 
advent  of  Taylor  with  his  forty  armed  men; 
and  there  the  relation  ends.  In  all  the  testi- 
mony, not  a  knife  is  ground,  not  a  flint  is 
picked,  not  a  rifle  is  fired;  the  forty  armed 
men  do  not  so  much  as  indulge  in  drill.  For 
all  they  said  or  did  or  acted,  the  forty  might 
have  been  explorers  or  sightseers  or  settlers 
or  any  other  form  of  peaceful  what-not. 

"I  suppose,"  observes  Marshall,  Chief 
Justice,  bending  his  black  eyes  warningly 
upon  Wirt,  " — I  suppose  it  unnecessary  to 
instruct  counsel  that  guilt  will  not  be  pre- 
sumed?" 

Wirt  replies  stiffly  that  counsel,  for  the 
Government  at  least,  require  no  instruc- 
tions; whereat  Martin,  the  "  Federal  bulldog," 
barks  hoarsely  up,  that  what  counsel  for 
Government  most  require,  and  are  most 
deficient  in,  is  a  case  and  the  evidence  of  it. 
Wirt  pays  no  heed  to  the  jeer,  but  announces 
that  under  the  ruling  of  the  court,  made  be- 
fore evidence  was  introduced,  he  has  nothing 
more  to  offer  touching  acts  of  overt  war.  He 
rests  his  case,  he  says,  on  that  point;  and, 
thereupon,  the  defence  takes  issue  with  him. 
The  Government,  Aaron  declares,  has  failed 
to  make  out  even  the  shadow  of  a  treason. 
There  is  nothing  which  demands  reply;  he 
will  call  no  witnesses. 

Marshall,  Chief  Justice,  directs  that  the 
arguments  to  the  jury  be  proceeded  with. 
Wirt  is  heard.  Being  imaginative,  and 
having  no  facts,  he  unchains  his  fancy,  and 
paints  a  paradise  whereof  Aaron  is  the  ser- 
pent, and  Blennerhasset  and  his  moon- 
visaged  spouse  are  Adam  and  Eve.  It  is  a 
beautiful  picture,  and  might  be  effective  did 
it  carry  any  grain  of  truth.  However,  it  is 
well  received  by  the  jury  as  a  romance  full  of 
entertaining  glow  and  glitter;  and  then  put 
aside  from  consideration.  While  Wirt  the 
fanciful  is  thus  coloring  his  invented  paradise, 
with  Aaron  as  the  evil  one  and  the  Blenner- 


hassets  the  betrayed  Adam  and  Eve,  the 
"betrayed"  Blennerhasset,  sitting  by  Aaron's 
side,  is  reading  the  "serpent"  one  a  letter, 
that  day  received  from  Madam  Blennerhas- 
set.   The  missive  closes: 

"Apprise  Colonel  Burr  of  my  warmest 
acknowledgments  for  his  own  and  Theo's 
kind  remembrances.  Tell  him  to  assure  her 
that  she  has  inspired  me  with  a  warmth  of 
attachment  that  never  can  diminish." 

On  the  oratorical  heels  of  Wirt  come  Wick- 
ham,  Hay,  Randolph,  Botts,  McRae.  Lastly, 
Martin  is  heard,  the  "Federal  bulldog" 
seizing  occasion  to  bay  Jefferson  even 
more  violently  than  before.  WTien  they  are 
done,  Marshall,  Chief  Justice,  lays  down  the 
law  as  to  what  should  constitute  an  "overt 
act  of  w'ar";  and,  since  it  is  plain,  even  to  the 
court  crier,  that  no  such  act  has  been  proven, 
the  jury  hurrv  forward  a  finding  of: 

"Not  guilty!" 

Jefferson,  full  of  prejudice,  hears  the  news. 
He  writes  wrathfully  to  Wirt: 

"Let  no  witness  depart  without  taking  a 
copy  of  his  evidence,  which  is  now  more 
important  than  ever.  The  criminal  Burr  is 
preserved,  it  seems,  to  become  the  rallying- 
point  of  all  the  disaffected  and  worthless  of 
the  United  States,  and  to  be  the  pivot  on 
which  all  the  conspiracies  and  intrigues,  that 
foreign  Governments  may  wish  to  disturb  us 
with,  are  to  turn.  There  is  still,  however,  the 
misdemeanor;  and,  if  he  be  convicted  of 
that.  Judge  Marshall  must  for  very  decency 
give  us  some  respite  by  a  short  confinement 
of  him;  but  we  must  expect  it  to  be  very 
short." 

There  is  a  day's  recess;  then  the  charge  of 
"levying  war  against  Mexico"  is  called. 
The  red-nosed  Wilkinson  now  tells  his  story, 
and  is  made  to  admit — the  painful  sweat 
standing  in  great  drops  upon  his  purple 
visage— that  he  has  altered  in  important 
respects  several  of  Aaron's  letters.  Being  by 
his  own  mouth  a  forger,  the  jury  marks  its 
estimate  of  the  red-nosed  one  by  again  acquit- 
ting Aaron,  and  pronouncing  a  second  finding 
of:' 

"Not  guilty!" 

Thus  ends  the  great  trial,  whicii  has 
rocked  a  continent.  Aaron  is  free;  his  friends 
crowd  about  him  jubilantly,  wliilc  the  loving, 
lustrous  Theo  weeps  upon  liis  sliouUlcr. 


{To  be  continued.) 


University  of 
Connecticut 

Libraries 


